


Once Mine

by margaret_helstone



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Friendship, Hiccunzel - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Slow Burn, all the original pairings recognised and respected, canon-verse, slowbuuuuuuurn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-05-05 04:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 72,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14609433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/margaret_helstone/pseuds/margaret_helstone
Summary: A story of two young souls, whose life is not at all a fairytale. Two young people who didn't have a chance to live "Happily ever after". For now a least. A story of a Princess, who has to learn how to live in a new, strange world, where you get fights and Dragon Races instead of music and dance.“Oh, you’ll be a great use to us for sure. The whole island came alive only because you’d appeared. And you know what -” She felt his strong, heavy hand on her shoulder. “Something tells me you will change much more more than that. And Thor strike me, if Hiccup doesn’t see that, too.”Hiccstrid/Hiccunzel, canon based.





	1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

* * *

 

She could hear nothing but the hum inside her head. She had no idea what had just happened, nor did she understand what was going on at the present. All she knew was that she was lying on the ground, too weak to even open her eyes. She realized she'd been remaining in the same uncomfortable position for a very long time, whichher numb arms were the best proof of, while her legs... she simply couldn't feel them at all. Not metaphorically – she really started consideringthe possibility of losing her control over them. Her head seemed to explode at any minute – the headache was hard to bare. There was no chance she could stand up.

Understanding that she wouldn't be able to make her limbs work the way she wanted them to, she focused on a different task. Less… physically engaging.She tried to gather her wits, she tried to understand the causes of her current situation. Where was she? What happened to her? When did she get here and for how long had she been there lying unconscious?

But more importantly: _why_ was she there?

She really tried to recall all that. Recall and remember. No way.

She felt dry sand on her lips. Her senses finally started to come round andmade her able to notice some other details – an icy-cold waft was the first of them. She felt it coming out of nowhere, causing her to tremble when the wet cloth of her dress adhered to her skin, chilling her. She heard the hum of the sea, coming from the same direction as the unpleasant sea blast. Once again, she tried to open her eyes; she could have been much more satisfiedwith the result this time. Encouraged by her latest success, she tried to rise up, propped on her elbows, and surprisingly, it worked. Her eyelids, lifted up with such a trouble just a moment earlier, closed immediately as she looked up at the sand surrounding her. It was literally shining, reflecting the beams of the rising sun.

With some effort, she managed to sit. When her eyes eventually got used to the glare, she realized her assumption was right: she was at a seashore, on a clean, fair beach. It was just a sunrise andeven though the sight was more than breathtaking, it didn't please her at all. It only confirmed her concerns – the girl had no doubts now. The beach was not familiar.And although she couldn't recall any of those _familiar_ beaches completely, she was quite sure she would've recognize each of them. Mostly because none of the seashores she'd ever visited was so awfully cold.

She looked around. There was no sign of life in the sight – no people, no animals. Even the vegetation was difficult to find. She turned around – the sea was now behind her. In front of her, there was a steep, rocky cliff, separated by the narrow strip of sand, where she herself was sitting. She couldn't see any kind of lowering of the cliff, neither on her right nor left – and even the best professional wouldn't climb that high. She sighed with resignation, understanding that walking was her only chance, which unfortunately wasn't currently possible, as she was still too weak to even think about it. She pricked up her ears, listening to the ambiance, hoping to hear some form of life and perhaps call out for help.She was answered by silence and the calm, steady sound of waves crashing against the shore.

She was feeling dizzy and it was getting worse and worse every moment. The most vivid images appeared on her mind; every picture she saw was familiar and yet, she couldn't recognize any of them.A palace. A great, white palace, situated on an island and floodlit with sunbeams. A market. A huge mosaic, showing figures she should know – but she did not. And… A light. A lot of light. The stars, that fell and swirled around her, dancing in silence, instead of staying on the horizon quiet and still. She saw them gracefully bouncing on the surface of the water.

Eventually, she heard a voice. Strong and warm, the voice of a man, calling her by the name she didn't know and yet somehow – _instinctively_ _–_ she knew it belonged to her.

_Rapunzel._

She blinked a couple of times, trying to understand. She knew this voice, she knew it better than any other. But… How?

_You are my dream, Rapunzel. You always have been. And you always will be._

“Eugene…” she whispered, feeling even more dizzy.

She tried to rise up frantically but after a moment her legs gave way. And not just her legs – her body, no longer able to cope with the stress and shock of the entire situation, gave out.

The princess of Corona toppled on the cold salty sand, unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1  
Alone**

_Loving can hurt  
loving can hurt sometimes  
_ _But it’s the only thing that I know_

* * *

The first drop of the rising sun fell into the dark, empty room, lightening the dark, empty floor. The single sun beam was almost the only source of light – the only one but a small candle standing on the desk. It was dying slowly, surrounded by maps, charts and scriptures. All of them were covered in Nordic runes; and all of them calling for the highest attention.

“Looks like we're about to welcome a new day in our favourite way, Bud. From over a stack of paper. _Again..._ ” The young Chief of Berk turned to his dragon friend and reached out his arms, trying to stretch out. He yawned, not bothering himself to cover his mouth. No one on Berk did that.

Toothless opened his eyes and then ostentatiously turned his head to the wall.

“Yeah, I know, I shouldn't. You really don't have to remind me.” Despite of being tired, Hiccup didn't sound annoyed in the least. He took his eyes off of the Night Fury and leaned over his notes again.

_'How, on Thor's name, did all of this get here?'_ he thought. He did have a point – each day brought him more and more documents. More duties in general, actually.

The dragon murmured with disapproval.

“I know," he sighed out loud. "But I really have no choice.”

He felt a hit on the back of his head when Toothless once again proved how good he was at throwing small items he could find around him. This time, dice, which had just reached the target with great effect.

“Could you please calm down?” the Viking raised his voice slightly. “Trust me, I really don't feel like doing all this. Actually, there is nothing I want more than a possibility of snapping my finger at it and just throwing myself on a bed. I don't do that for fun, you know? But I am a Chief and as a Chief, I have obligations to my people. In our world, it is mostly about management. In our world, the leader is expected to control the situation, to know and understand more than anyone else. And this thing takes time.”

“I'm not the Alpha, Bud,” he resumed after a while. “In our world it's not enough to roar to make everything right.”

His friend seemed by no means satisfied with this kind of answer. He snorted in response and right after that, he fastened his eyes on Hiccup's face. He was staring at his rider so meaningfully, that the boy simply couldn't ignore him. They were staring in each other's eyes for a moment – two leaders, each of them convinced that he was right.

After that moment, the dragon looked at the other side of the room and rested his gaze on the small portrait, pinned to the wall. His tactic worked just the way he wanted, when Hiccup's eyes involuntarily followed his. The difference was, the Chief looked away immediately.

“No, Bud.”

Toothless snorted again. He didn't use to consider himself being wrong.

“Still, you _are_ wrong,” the Viking answered as if he heard his friend's thoughts. “She wouldn't want it at all.”

Hiccup felt his hands shake. He put away the charcoal, knowing it would fall out of his hand anyway; he clenched his fists. It didn't help a bit.

“You should try to work on your argumentation, Bud, because those remarks of yours aren’t even half as convincing as you think they are. Would she chide me for sitting by my desk till morning? Of course she would. Would she make an entire speech about my warped understanding of responsibility? What a speech it would be! She could say many things, you know. The point is, it is not about what Astrid would say. It's about what she would do while saying all that. How much she would do.”

He clenched his fists even harder and his knuckles went white. He tried to speak calmly. He tried to breathe calmly.

He really did.

“You know how much. More than anyone else.” His voice trembled a little. “Yes, she used to drag me away from work. She would make me promise I'd go to bed at a proper hour and when I didn't keep my promise, she wouldn't speak a single word to me. So I listened. But the only reason why I could've afford that was Astrid herself. She used to reproach me for being over eager, and at the same time, she was determined to take over a lion's share of the tasks, no matter how hard I protested against it. She would take over the duties which had never been hers – _they'd been mine._ "

He stood up, shaking with anger; he felt impotent rage overcoming him again. And then, the _qualms_. He was burnt with guilt, he almost could've felt the physical symptoms of it.

Moments like this made him hate himself, and his life was practically filled with these kind of 'moments'. In fact, the remorse had become his constant companion and hadn’t left him for a second. It had accompanied him for more than a year now, making his life impossible to bear; but Hiccup had to live.

He had to go on. For his tribe, for his village. For his people.

The young man felt the earth washing away from beneath him. He felt dizzy. He leaned against the big wooden pole right next to the stairs, as if he feared he would fall down. It was more likely to happen than he thought.

“After three days of her being silent, I was ready to fall on my knees, begging for her forgiveness just to make her notice me. One day she got really mad and as a punishment, she ignored me for a week. You remember that?”

The dragon kept staring at the boy. Yes, he did remember. He remembered Hiccup getting crazy. He had understood something was wrong then. But it was nothing compared to the present.

“I thought I'd lose my mind. I barely saw her for the entire week and when I did, she was always occupied with something else. Or someone else. And she never made an impression of the whole situation bothering her in any way. I was going mad but I could have assumed that she would forgive me and the matter would be resolved, that in the end, everything would be alright. I… I did a lot of thinking then, wondering what I would do if it lasted for longer. But the very idea of spending as much as a month without her by my side was unbearable. And completely absurd, by the way.”

He paused.

“It has been a year.”

Silence descended on the room. It was dull and bitter, filled with grudge and pain. It was the silence covered with tears – the ones he shed and the ones he hid. The silence of helplessness and misunderstanding. The silence that called for answers – with no hope to ever get them.

Toothless was lying with his head lifted. He was looking at the boy who’d found him in the woods, defenceless and wounded and yet, he’d done what no other Viking would do. Hiccup had helped him get his flying ability back. He’d helped his people make peace on Berk. Now he was the one who needed support, but there was no one who could offer it to him.

Hiccup was still standing next to the pole, bracing on it., no longer caring if he was breathing coolly or not. He kept silent. If he could, he would hold more than his tongue – the young man would be most happy if he simply could stop breathing. No more inhaling. No more exhaling.

No more _pain_.

He really wanted that, even though he couldn't do it. He was the Chief and the Chief had no right to play with his life; it belonged to his tribe and the only reason for sacrificing it was do defend his people.

Because a dead Chief is a poor Chief.

He felt Toothless poke him on the side, trying to catch his rider's attention. He lowered his hand and put it on the dragon's head. Toothless nugded him again.

“Yes, Bud. I still have you. I can't even imagine how I would go through all this alone.”

He straighten up and sighed deeply, glancing at the heap of papers, that still covered his desk. He couldn't let go. If the Chief's life belonged to the tribe, it meant he couldn't let them down in any way.

Despite of the clear objection of the Night Fury, Hiccup approached the table.

“The thing is,” he answered to his friend's silent reproach, sitting down on a chair and taking his charcoal back.“The thing is that nobody can ever replace her. Nor you, nor Valka. Nor anyone else.”

* * *

The young Chief woke up in his own bed. He couldn't have recalled how exactly he had ended up there, as he definitely did not remember making his way to the bed at night.

_'Morning, Hiccup. Morning.'_ he pointed out to himself.

The dawn was something he remembered pretty well after all. What he also remembered, was reading all the lists and charts he'd made and how sleepy he’d been at the time. Eventually, he assumed he must have gone to his bed half-conscious, with the assistance of his four-legged companion. He also noticed that he was still wearing the same clothes as the night before – _o_ _bviously_ – fortunately, this time it wasn't his leather armour. Sleeping in the armour usually resulted in a hard backache that would last for more than a few days.

The recollection was enough to make him wince.

He rolled over to his other side, pulling up his blanket. It was getting colder every day, regardless to the fact Berk had officially welcome Autumn only two weeks earlier – unfortunately, even the middle of the Summer couldn't be called warm in this part of a world. Hiccup realised he should get up immediately and he found this idea highly repulsive.

He gathered his thoughts. How long had he been sleeping? Three, four hours?

_'Too long anyway.'_ He rose up reluctantly. _'It's always too long.'_

The Viking walked up to a bowl of water and quickly rinsed his hands and face soon realising that the icy-cold liquid turned out to be much more refreshing than he needed it to be. Another charming feature of the Berkian climate. He shivered.

He put his armour on as quickly as possible and wrapped a thong around his right boot. There was no reason he should busy himself with the left one – his metal leg was in a perfect condition. He looked up before he'd get downstairs and focused on the portrait drawn by him, the one which had caused such strong emotions only a few hours earlier.

“I'm sorry, Astrid,” he said carelessly, with no sign of remorse. “I can't lie around any longer. Besides, you're not talking to me anyway, are you?”

He almost ran downstairs and immediately, he was welcomed with the scent of roasted meat. In the Viking society, it was silly to expect anything else – his people would eat nothing but mutton, venison and poultry, if only they had a chance. Hiccup thought that a little change of customs wouldn't hurt, though, however, as soon as this thought crossed his mind, he felt it was unfair. The very circumstance of a well prepared breakfast waiting for him should be enough to make him grateful. The young Chief promised to himself not to feel anything else in the future.

“Morning mum,” he greeted, exerting himself to smile. “It smells delicious.”

He meant that. Valka's cooking abilities were more than impressive, no matter how unbelievable it would've sounded just a few months earlier. Not so long ago, Hiccup would’ve agreed that his mother wouldn't have much problem with burning water; yet there she was, frying, boiling and roasting like if it was nothing. The Dragon Lady – _that_ _was_ _how she'd be called in the cordial jokes_ – suddenly started to run rings around her competitors on the island. The fact they were all Vikings didn't diminish her success in the slightest.

Valka looked up from above her plate and nodded her head as a thank-you, but didn't say a word.

“Yes, I have slept,” her son answered, even though she'd never asked the question. “Really. And no, I have not fallen asleep on my desk.”

“Of course not.”

He almost couldn't hear that ironic attitude in her voice.

The man smiled a bit more sincerely and rolled his eyes as he walked up to the fire place.

“I have to peek in the stalls,” he said after a while, putting a fair portion of a yak stew on his plate. It looked really inviting. “Gobber seems to have some troubles with his clients. They complain, he makes a fuss over it… In other words, a typically Viking-like situation.”

“They complain about Gobber?” the Dragon Lady looked surprised. “As far as I remember there hasn't been a better blacksmith in the entire Archipelago. Has anything changed?”

“Not really. I took a look on the new equipment and I don't think it's any worse than the old one. I'll try to find out what's going on out there. Unfortunately, Gobber refuses to understand that calling his costumers names – and you know how creative he can be about that – isn't exactly helping in the case."

“Looks like the Vikings are becoming choosy,” Valka said.

“Gods help us all.”

Finally, Hiccup sat down and started eating.

_'Thank you, Thor, for a mother like this,’_ he thought as soon as he’d tasted the stew. True, the first trials could've make his stomach really unsettled. So what? The cook of this class was worth waiting for.

“What's next?”

“Sven and his sheep, obviously being in the place they _shoul_ _d_ _not_ be.” He tried not to speak with his mouth full, but then again, he was too much in a hurry to really care about that. “Some kids have destroyed the fence on his farm and now I have to find someone to help repair it, and to gather all the sheep so they don't run all over the island, which they're probably doing now. Next, Gothi needs herbs for her potions so, first, we have to make a list, second, find out which of those special plants can be found on Berk and which of them requires a longer flight. And third, we need to collect it. Quite a lot of it in fact, as I concluded from our small talk."

He remained silent, thinking.

“The summer is over, it's getting colder every day. I have to check the granaries, both ours and dragons'… As soon as possible. One of the feeders has been damaged, we have to fix it immediately. Fishlegs mentioned the wells, the twins said something about a breakdown in the stables and Snotlout spent about a quarter reporting every detail of an argument between Bucket and… I don't even know who that other man was. Oh, and we really need to disassemble Mildew's old hut, at last. All it does is threaten children and dragons.”

“You have no idea how much you resemble him.” Valka smiled sadly, looking at her son. “Everything must be done, everything must be arranged, everything must be taken care of. All by yourself. _Alone_ _ **.**_ ”

“I'm not alone.” Hiccup shrugged. “And I can't complain about the help I get. How many Chiefs have a Night Fury as their support?”

“You know, what I mean.” The Dragon Lady wasn't going to give up. “It just won't work. Your father tried that, I saw it. Don't repeat his mistakes.”

“My father was the best Chief that has ever led Berk.” The man raised his voice. Valka had hit the raw nerve. “I wish his mistakes were the only defect of my reign. I'm afraid I have a long list of my own potential flubs, though."

“What's the point in making both?”

Valka stood up and started collecting the dishes. She was still staring at Hiccup, who on the contrary was preparing to leave in any minute.

“Don't be stubborn," she continued. "Remember that even Stoick the Vast, the best of Chiefs, eventually learnt to use help. _Your help,_ too."

Hiccup, who was just about to turn to the door, stopped. He fixed his eyes on a floor, ruminating on what he should answer. At last, he turned to his mother and glared right into her eyes.

Valka barely managed to stop herself from stepping back – what she saw in his sight threw her for a loop; it was so full of anger, so full of hatred – none of these feelings aimed at herself, but she was terrified nevertheless.

“You know mum, you're right.” He was speaking slowly, carefully pronouncing each and every word. “My father had a son, ready to take over some of his duties. As you can see, though, I do not. And I don't think we can see it change any time soon.”

He promptly shut the door behind him, leaving Valka to wonder if darkness within her son's heart would ever disappear.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2  
Nothing has changed**

_I still think about you_ __  
_I still dream about you_ _  
_ _I still want you and need you by my side_

* * *

_'I shouldn’t have spoken to her in that way._ _Or_ _leave the house like that.'_ Hiccup thought, observing the kids who were supposed to be working on the farm of not-so-silent-Sven. _'She gets up_ _at_ _dawn, just to make sure she does that before me. She keeps the house clean, which, in a Viking_ _house_ _certainly isn't an obvious thing. For gods' sake, this woman learned how to cook!'_

He definitely should've been more patient.

He glanced down. It was long ago when he’d realised how much more effective this tactic was – overseeing the kids from the dragon's perspective made it harder for them to elude the boy's sharp eyes and consequently shirk their work. Especially, that even if theyoung man omitted something, his dragon certainly did not. This time wasn't any different.

“Yeah, bud, I've noticed.” He patted Toothless on his neck just after the dragon had turned his attention to the right side.

“Codcatch, if you think I don't see you, _you're wrong_!” he shouted. “And so are you, Ternshot!”

The twins, both thirteen years old, leaned out from behind the heap of chests where they were hiding; they were doing their best, pretending they had no idea, what their Chief was talking about.

Unluckily for them, _doing their best_ did not mean that they actually did it _well._

_'Why is it always about the twins?'_ a single thought crossed his mind.

He smiled in remembrance of the wild ideas Ruff and Tuff used to come up with. It wasn't getting any better – on the contrary, each try could've been expected to be even more insane than the former. It seemed that every next day made them more and more creative. Although… it looked like they _did_ calm down a little bit lately.

When did that happen?

_'Last year.'_

He chased away the thought which immediately appeared in his mind. He spotted that Codcatch and Ternshot were again under Sven's supervision and, having that recognized, he let his dragon friend know it was time for them to leave. They turned back in a gracious manner as they headed to the lonely hut of the tribal Healer. New duties were waiting for him to come and Hiccup could only wonder how his father had dealt with all that – not only unable to count on the dragons' help, but having to work in a state of constant await of their unexpected attacks.

_'As it happens',_ he confessed to himself _'He didn't have too much help on my side, either.'_

He was completely lost in admiration for Stoick. How could he _not_ be?

“You know what, Bud?” he said a moment later. “We really have to do something about naming things.”

When they arrived, he realised that he had – once again – mistakenly judged his advisor's character, just as much as his own persuasing skills. Their visit at Gothi's house was about to take much more time than he initially intended – and caused a lot more bruises than he could ever expect.

“Ouch!” he cried out as she punched him with her infamous wooden staff. “I really don't think I deserved that!”

She whacked him again.

“Hey!” Hiccup stepped away, trying to gain a safe position. “Alright, I've probably _did_ deserve that one. But it hurts anyway.”

He massaged the pulsating place on the side of his head, gazing at the Healer attentively. He certainly _didn't_ feel healed but apparently, that was not the old lady’s intention. Gothi bent down and using her staff, she scratched something on a sand. Hiccup decoded the line with no trouble – not because he finally learned to understood the Herbalist, but because Gothi wrote it for the third time this day.

He shrugged his arms in a lieu of an answer.

“Help, help. All I hear of these day is help. What's the matter with that?” he bridled. “Bad labour division? It's perfect.”

Gothi raised her left eyebrow in disbelief.

“Come on, you know that I won't be gathering all of these weeds by myself, right? But I need that list, so I can pass it on to someone else.”

“What?! No, I can't send him to you!” The soreness in Hiccup’s voice was obviously growing. “If I could, I wouldn't be flying back and forth for the whole day. Fishlegs is busy with the Academy. Everybody is busy with the Academy.”

The old woman scribbled again.

“I beg your pardon,” he replied with a grumpy tone in his voice, as he finally managed to interpret vague symbols on the ground. “I am _not_ a mutton head, and I'm not being stubborn, I'm being consequent. Or more like I _would_ be if everyone around me didn't make it their goal to hamper me on that. Where's the help you're all talking about? Where's the trust? By the way, Gothi, a grain of respect wouldn't hurt either. As the Chief of Berk, I think I can expect a little… _Ouch!”_

_The Chief of Berk_ teetered under the blow that had belted him from above, hitting the very middle of his skull. The old lady certainly didn't stint on her staff – Hiccup was starting to believe that the Healer had never really needed a purchase and the only valid reason for using it was a chance of giving bruises to all the Vikings she considered defiant or insolent.

Or the ones who had both of the features. Whether it was a Chief or not – it made no difference.

“Gothi, please.”

She ignored him. Without saying a word, she approached the edge of the platform, watching the ocean, opened out ahead them. With a gesture, she ordered him to stand next to her.

Resigned, Hiccup carried out her order. He followed her sight and fixed his own on the steady depths of the water; h had no idea what exactly he was supposed to search for but he knew that both questions and protests were of no use here. Nudged, he turned to the other side. He looked the island over, spotting what he usually saw – an everyday confusion, mundane troubles, prosaic obstacles. A great deal of joy. His ears were approached by the never-ending din of the routine Viking life. Suddenly, he felt it was weighing him down; Hiccup finally started to understand.

“I know. They can’t be controlled, but you know, that’s not what I intend. I’m just trying to protect them, in the only way I know. Every morning, every night. I want them to know that they can rely on me.” He averted his eyes. “Besides, even the ocean can be curbed. We’re Vikings, after all.”

The Chief glanced at the old lady again and read through her thoughts without the slightest effort. That was the one thing he’d never had problems with

“Yes, alone. Sometimes. At least, I have to try.”

Gothi shook her head and sighed, displeased. However, she did give him the list he’d asked her for and this time, her staff stayed away from his skull.

“Thank you,” he said calmly. “When only I find a moment, I’ll commission somebody to take care of it. I will make sure you get your ingredients as soon as possible.”

He made his way to Toothless, who’d been lying on the platform for the whole time. Right before he mounted his dragon, he’d turned around and asked:

“I can’t help but wonder if you’d been educating my father in the same way. So… painfully? Don’t get me wrong, but I still have some trouble imagining it.”

The village Healer grinned with gusto and nodded in confirmation. Hiccup raised his eyebrows, astonished. It really was hard to envision Gothi, beating _the_ Stoick the Vast with a stick, but apparently, he was wrong. Very wrong, maybe.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he jumped on the saddle and in a matter of seconds they soared up in the air.

The Elder followed them with her sight, while her smile, brought up by a memory, slowly disappeared as she thought about the young Dragon Rider. Too much misery, too much sorrow had hit that boy during the past sixteen months. Too many complications arrived in his life almost at the same time.

_'When you have to gain new duties, it is always difficult. Responsibility is difficult. But as long as you can count on the support and advise of the person who imposes that responsibility on you, from whom you get your duties, the task can be carried out. When that help is missing and you have to learn everything from your own mistakes, completing it seems almost impossible.'_

Gothi was still staring at the sky, even though her young Chief was long gone by now.

_'What can be told about a man, whose side is taken not by a friend, but by Death itself?'_

* * *

The sun was slowly fainting away over the lip of the sky; week by week, the days were shorter and colder, and even though there still was quite a lot of time until the winter solstice would come, Hiccup Haddock the Third still felt that he needed many more bright hours in a day.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to re-schedule our work on the feeders for another day,” the man pointed out, dissatisfied. He was bending over a bucket full of turbid water which they’d just drawn from a well. “Which means that once again, we don’t keep up with the plan.”

He sighed, feeling low. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. He would just have to get up even earlier and try to make up for the lost time on the next day. The Rider smiled bitterly, pondering if he should go to bed at all. He raised his head as he’d heard a noise, coming from the Arena.

It was filled with life again – Dragon Training was on the go.

“It’s a bit sad we’re not there, don’t you think?” Hiccup pulled out a paper with the map of underground rivers, supplying all of the Berk’s wells. “However you put it, we’ve started this whole Academy thing.” With a few quick moves he marked another polluted well on the map. “Maybe it wasn’t exactly the same, but it’s still a shame we can’t watch them training.”

“Are you _insane_?!” Snotlout’s voice, both furious and scared, echoed in the vicinity. “Would you please control that dragon, you mutton heads! It’s sparking all around!”

“It’s not our fault your dragon is so flammable. Geez.” It sounded like Tuffnut was truly enjoying the situation. “I don’t have this problem with mine.”

“Nor do I!” Ruff accompanied him, chuckling.

“Guys? One dragon?”

“Heather was right, absolutely nothing has changed.” The Chief smirked, still leaning over his graph.

“I don’t care about how many dragons they are, Fishface!” Snotlout wasn’t going to give up. “You’ve almost got me killed!”

“ _But you lived!”_ a familiar female voiced resonated in Hiccup’s head. _“Yay us.”_

He felt a twinge in his chest. He lowered his head instantly, and the smile that had finally find its way to his face, disappeared in a second. Once again, he was caught by that dreadful remorse that had followed him for so long.

He was not allowed to smile.

“Nothing has changed?” He whispered to himself. Feeling a lump in his throat, he couldn’t have done much more. “How could I _think that?_ How could I spend a minute, being foolish enough to believe such a thing?”

A helpless anger showed on his face.

“How could I pretend that life can go on at all after all _that_? After...”

He gritted his teeth, unable to finish his thought. His hands were shaking, his eyes were wet again – and he only wondered for how long the very mention of Astrid would make him react this way.

And right after, he realised that he wanted it to last as long as possible. Until the end, no matter when and how it would get to him.

“Everything has changed.”

He heard another shout coming from the Arena, and then a sound of a breaking wood. An explosion followed, accompanied by Snotlout’s groan and the laugher of everyone else.

Hiccup rose from his knees with difficulty; with his hands still trembling, he folded the map and hid it in an inside pocket of his armour. He came up to Toothless, and making sure that the lashing straps of his saddle were properly tightened, got on his back. The Viking didn’t even glance at the Arena, even when the next trick – certainly caused by one of the pupils – made the surrounding shake. There was no point.

He poked his friend, implying it was high time to leave, however, it was apparent that the Night Fury was not at all intending to understand that most obvious sign. The dragon remained in the same position, and only with the swing of his head, he kept pointing to the direction of where the gang were.

The boy harnessed his will to answer that demand. He almost managed to sound calmly, to avoid that unnatural vibration in his voice.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough.” He pat Toothless on the neck. “They can cope with it alone. By saying it’s a shame I didn’t mean we should visit them. We still have one more well to check and you know it’s not all that’s left for today, right? Besides, I’m definitely _not_ in the mood for visiting them at the moment.”

He straightened, just in time to avoid being slapped in the face by Toothless’s ear – another terrific way in which his four-legged friend would express a disapproval for his Rider’s ideas applied; just as willingly as tripping the Viking’s legs with the deft motion of his dragon tail.

“Why is it always violence with you?” Hiccup asked, pretending he didn’t know the answer and pushing away the one that immediately appeared in his mind.

The Night Fury purred joyfully, confirming his speculations.

“That’s a horrible way of communication, trust me. Even for you.” The Chief answered, rolling his eyes. “Even though it works sometimes. Now let’s go.”

Toothless cast his longing sight to the Arena for the last time, but rushed, he eventually took off. His Rider felt a cold breeze touching his skin. One more time, he thought that adding a mask to his helmet could definitely be regarded one of his best ideas – also being much more practical that his father had thought.

On the other hand, Hiccup had to admit that each time he rose into the air, exposing himself to the power of an icy winter, a pleasant shiver went through his young, tired body.In those short moments, the Chief happened to forget about all of his overwhelming duties, about the responsibility that lay on him constantly; about the grief accompanying him all the time.

For a split second he felt _free_.

He took a deep breath, looking around. His gaze turned involuntarily and rested on the quiet waters of the ocean, which surrounded his family island. The storm that had hit Berk just a day earlier left no trace of itself – the sea wasn’t a danger anymore – at this very moment, it rather seemed to tenderly wrap up the entire Archipelago than threat it with its power. Hiccup heard his friend purr with delight and he suddenly remembered what Gothi had said to him that day.

“She’s right. The Vikings _are_ like the ocean. Uncouth, unpredictable and very dangerous. But it’s not all that we are.” He well knew that it wasn’t exactly what the Healer meant but he also didn’t care much about it. “You know, I think we don’t live as close to _Hopeless_ as I imagined. Twelve days would be way to little. I’m quite sure we would need more than three weeks of a good flight to get there.”

He quivered, when a cold gust touched his back.

“Still, _Freezing to Death_ seems to be closer than ever.”

Toothless snorted, disrespectfully.

“Oh, come on. I know you don’t appreciate my sense of humour, but you really could’ve got used to it after all these years. More than six, to be exact.”

With a sudden move of his head, Toothless gave him to understand that he could not, no matter if it was six or sixty six years. Night Furies happened to be maliciously choosy. And very, very stubborn.

“Well, it looks like I won’t change your mind about that. I’m sorry Bud, the problem here is yours and yours only. Now focus, we’re gonna land.”

“Come on, Toothless! It’s time to come back to the earth,” Hiccup commanded flatly after realising that his latest reproof had been completely ignored. “Stop fooling around, we don’t have time for this.”

His friend had different plans, though. Folding his trunk rapidly, he turned back. The boy matched the set-up of the artificial tail in a reflex action, realising his own stupidity a few seconds later. He pushed the pedal, trying to make his dragon change the direction of his flight. It didn’t work too well. Toothless stayed poised in the air, but he had no intention of calming down – he kept yanking his body, struggling to continue his previous path. His motions were so swift that Hiccup started to doubt if he could even remain in his saddle.

“Hey, stop it!” he cried severely. “I don’t care about your momentary whims! You hear me?! We’re going straight to the target. I said, _enough_!”

As soon as he voiced the last phrase, he knew he’d been too harsh. There was an anger in his words, although he didn’t understand where it came from nor did heknow why his voice sounded so terribly icy-cold. Toothless calmed down immediately, surprised with the bolt his Rider tossed at himand Hiccup grasped that until that moment, he’d only shouted at his friend like that once. Back then, he’d promised to himself not to ever repeat it. He definitely hadn’t expected he would break his word so easily, because of such a poor reason – but no matter how much he regretted his thoughtless action, he couldn’t have retracted it.

He was tired. And he had no strength _or_ will to apologize.

With a firm move, he directed his dragon to the last well.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3  
We’d known her first**

_Yes I want to grow yes I want to feel_   
_Yes I want to know show me how to heal it up_   
_Heal it up_

* * *

The night was cool and bright. The Moon was hanging high, lightening the quiet homesteads of all the Vikings, currently preparing to sleep after the whole day of work. Pale beams disappeared in thresholds and niches, while the shadow with its distinct lines showed their edges and curves. Every now and then, silence was interrupted by dragon rumbles and not so cordial reproofs of their owners.

On the top of a platform, a still remaining relict of the past war against the dragons, a fire was set, burning with a small but steady flame. The group of young people that sat quietly around it, certainly did not intend to go back home any time soon. For the leaders of the Dragon Academy there was no such term as _t_ _oo late._

“I’m warning you,” Snotlout spoke, pointing at Tuffnut with his stick, on which the remains of a roasted chicken could be seen. “You’ll do something like this one more time, and I’ll personally rip your head off.”

“Yeah...” The other boy didn’t even glance at his prosecutor. “Just like yesterday.”

“And the day before that,” his sister added.

“And every other time...” Fishlegs pointed out with scepticism.

The whole gang peered at Snotlout, not even trying to conceal their amusement.

“Actually, you say that every single time you get shot," Tuff summed up. "And there is no real consequence to it."

“Exactly!” Ruffnut revolted. “You could tie him to a mast with his head down, and ship him off into the storm. Or lock him up in some dark dirty den, face to face with a Changewing, and a Changewing only. That would be something.”

“Dirty den. Brr.” Tuffnut shivered. “But I like the mast thing – put it one the list before we forget it.”

“Excuse me?” Snotlout looked around with a reproach. “Doest _anyone_ care for what I really mean?”

“Truth is, you’ve been threatening him since forever and you have _never_ fulfilled any of those threats. Don’t expect him to start caring for them now.” As usual, Fishlegs was answering his friend calmly, glancing at him a bit derisively. At the same time, Snotlout was far from being calm.

As usual.

“You don’t understand a thing, you mutton heads! How are we supposed to be an authority for those kids, if we’re making things hot for each other _inside_ the team?”

The twins looked at one other, apparently enjoying themselves; Fishlegs sighed, unconvinced. Eret, who’d remained silent until now, lifted his eyes, examining the preceding speaker carefully.

“If we think of being an authority as of our main goal, Snotlout does have a point. But I’m not sure this is what it’s all about.”

“Hold on a second,” Tuffnut protested unexpectedly. “Didn’t you command this way yourself? You know, _d_ _on’t mess with the leader,_ and stuff?"

“I did, and that’s why I know what I’m talking about.” The former Dragon Trapper had no intention of withdrawing. “That was different. My mercenaries were all adults, but I was the only one to answer before Drago. So those men really had nothing to say – about anything.”

He fell silent, pondering. “It’s not the same with those kids. They need to learn to make decisions on their own, because they’ll be the ones responsible for them.”

“And how is that connected to the authority at all?” Snotlout asked.

“Only that’s it’s not the authority we should be focusing on right now.”

Fishlegs cleared his throat. “As much as I hate to say it, I think Snotlout may be up to something. Sorry, Eret," he muttered tentatively. "Even if he's only partially right."

“Ha!” the short Viking called with a triumph in his voice. “Of course I… Wait, what?”

“It doesn’t often happen, but I have to agree. _Partially_ ," Fishlegs continued, sounding a little more assertively. “If we want our future Riders to make a tight team, they should perceive us as one; that’s the first thing to start with. And as it comes to taking the initiative, there’s no need to hurry. I don’t think we should pattern ourselves upon Drago and his soldiers -" On that point, he spoke to Eret directly. "- But you have to admit, some of his methods can actually work. Remember that _t_ _hose kids_ have just started their training; some of them have never ridden a dragon. They’re learning, Eret. From us. So, if this training is supposed to end with any good results, it’s better if they think of us as well as possible.”

“You want them to think we are free from any faults?” The Trapper slightly raised his eyebrows.

“That’s something no one could achieve. And certainly not with this squad.” Fishlegs smiled under his nose. “Besides, it would be rather dumb to pretend we have no defects, but then again, why would we give them the entire list at once? Maybe… you shouldn’t know everything about your leader, not at the beginning, at least. Keeping a proper distance can also do some good, to both of the parties.”

“Sounds awfully like Hiccup.”

There was something in Tuff’s words, that made his comment resonate with scorn – but what was really there, was a strong feeling of grudge.

Silence descended, while the Riders lowered their heads and looked away. Each and every of them tormented themselves with the matter of their young Chief, who’d seemed not to remember he’d been a member of this group himself once. As the time had gone by, they’d started to doubt if Hiccup would have even called them his friends anymore. But none of them knew what could’ve been done about it.

“I’m so sick of him!” Snotlout yelled, eventually. “So sick! He pisses me off! He always has, but what he’s doing now, tops it all. He acts like if we weren’t even here. He may be a Chief, but Odin’s beard, it’s doesn’t mean he can be a jerk now!”

Noticing, that no one’s going to respond, he went on: “You’ve all heard Valka saying what’s happening to him. How this guy is functioning – he hardly eats, hardly sleeps, and Toothless has probably forgotten, that you can go for a flight and for once, not care about what other people need. But of course, we can’t do a bloody thing, ‘cause Hiccup _doesn’t wish_ _us to_ _._ ”

“Why doesn’t he let us help?” Ruffnut asked, exceptionally quiet. “Why?”

“We all know, why,” Fishlegs answered bleakly, rolling a helmet in his hands. “It’s _her._ All that happens, happens because _she_ is not here.”

“But there is even more to do now, right? He could use help more than ever,” the girl didn’t want to pull back.

“It’s not that easy...” Fishlegs dispelled her hopes, as he was patting his hand on Meatlug, lounging by his side. “He _wants_ to work, because if he does, he has no time for thinking. Maybe it’s better for him to tire in a physical way, than agonise over remembering Astrid.”

Ruff looked rather unconvinced.

“Well, it doesn’t seem to work. He thinks of her all the time anyway.”

“True.”

For a moment, they remained silent, both occupied with the same thought. Eret put his fish down; for some reason, he completely lost an appetite for it.

“Everything here reminds him of her.” The Trapper gazed at the fireplace, slowly dying in the night. “When you guys were entertaining the recruits by setting each other on fire, I had a chance to fly around the Island. I saw him. He was checking a wall near the Academy and I think he heard your screams; I could’ve sworn, he smiled sincerely, and more, it lasted. But only for a while.”

“So it doesn’t really matter if we talk about her, or not. You know, _d_ _on’t you dare to mention Astrid_ _with_ _Hiccup_ _in_ _sight_ rule. We worry for no reason.”

“That’s another thing!” Snotlout perked up again. “Even if there is a reason, why should we care? Why can’t we speak of her? Because he’s hurt? And what about us?”

Fishlegs opened his mouth, intending to defence their Chief, but closed it a second later. As for the young Jorgenson, he was thriving.

“He cared for her more than we did. I get it. They were closer. And… And maybe Hiccup really suffers more than all of us together, but for gods’ sake, he doesn’t have an exclusivity for mourning!”

He fell on a bench, exhausted, and still furious.

His companions saw no need to hurry with an answer; they let the silence take over again.

The Moon had shifted, changing the arrangement of the shadows. Somewhere in the distance, a dragon roared; in one of the houses, situated closer to them, a man knocked a wooden bowl, making it fall down with a crash. The sea was burbling gently – it was friendly and calm. Even Barf and Belch, who’d been too busy biting one another to notice anything, lay their heads on the ground, ashamed.

“He doesn’t even let us mention her,” Snotlout’s voice sounded more like a whisper now. “Like if she was never here.”

Sniffing, he fiercely wiped away a tear that had was suddenly slipped on his cheek; and he wasn’t the one be moved easily.

“It’s not exactly like that...” Fishlegs threw in conciliately. “But you’re right. He kinda appropriated the right for a grief.”

“As for me, sometimes I think there are no good memories of Astrid,” Eret mumbled.

Tuffnut confirmed. “Soon there won’t be any.”

The rest of the gang shook their heads.

“You know we’d known her first, right?” Ruff mooted a while later “We’d known her for longer, _much_ longer. Whatever you may say, she’d hanged out with us since we’d been kids, but she practically hadn’t noticed Hiccup until the Training.”

“When she was trying to kill him,” her brother snorted with laughter. “Oh Thor, she was mad.”

Eret raised his head and glanced and his friends’ faces. He wondered how was it possible he’d not heard that part of the story before.

“You should’ve seen it,” Snotlout spoke directly to him. “The worst Viking Berk had ever seen came to the Dragon Training and not only did he survive the first days not getting eaten, but was actually doing quite well."

“ _Quite well_? _”_ Fishlegs protested. “He was doing much better than _quite well_. We were all playing daredevil, but no one doubted – if there was anyone to win that Training, it was Astrid. Until Hiccup appeared and made dragons do whatever he wanted them to.”

Eret still looked rather sceptical about the whole thing.

“Nothing new. It was Hiccup, after all.”

“That’s the point. Short and skinny, he couldn’t even handle his axe properly.” Fishlegs smiled, embarrassed. “To tell you the truth, none of us had treated him seriously back then, Stoick especially. Astrid wasn’t any different.”

His friend observed that the twins peeked at each other knowingly. He could bet that the blonde girl sitting in front of him had something to add. Apparently, she abandoned the idea.

Fishlegs continued, “Anyway, as you may guess, Hiccup soon went from zero to hero. He was no longer a village doormat; he was a serious rival instead.”

“And nothing made Astrid as crazy-insane as a rival nearby. Trust me.” Snotlout grinned widely, and so did the oldest Viking.

“It’s always a competition, isn’t it?”

“Always,” the whole group replied harmoniously.

“No matter how long Hiccup would tell us otherwise,” Fishlegs made it complete. “It changes nothing.”

“If only you saw her while Heather first came here,” Ruff chuckled. “It was quite a show.”

“You mean _the_ Heather?” The trapper picked up his fish, which was still lying next to him. He was more than happy to see the surrounding warm up again.

“ _The_ Heather...” Fishlegs responded quietly; then, after getting it together, he added, “Astrid… wasn’t especially fond of her during her first visit. She didn’t trust her; and as it soon turned out, she was right.”

“Heather kidnapped Stormfly.”

“Yes. But I suppose the thing that really made Astrid sick, was Hiccup paying so much attention to our guest.”

“Another hen in the rooster house, if you know what I mean,” Tuffnut nudged his sister, smiling halfwittedly.

“Astrid was...”

“ _The_ _ **last**_ _thing I am is jealous!”_ the Thorston-Jorgenson duet squealed simultaneously, imitating their friend really badly. The gang burst out laughing, including Eret. Even though he couldn’t remember the situation, the very thought of the warrior saying anything _remotely_ like this was enough to make him accompany the group.

“You know Hiccup would kill us, if he found out how we speak of her, right?” Still unable to stop laughing, Snotlout could hardly pronounce it properly. Again, he wiped his tears, this time caused by a sudden explosion of cheerfulness. “Oh gods, we’re dead.”

“Hiccup?” Tuff asked, cackling. “Just think of what Astrid would do, if she could hear us now!”

“ _Farewell, my friends, as the end is near!_ ” his Twin summed up in the most theatrical way.

Another howl of laughter ripped the air, spreading around, slowly dying in silence. None of them stopped smiling.

“And that’s the crucial difference,” watching his friends’ faces, Fishlegs sighed. “Many months will pass until Hiccup learns to treat those memories like we do. If he ever -”

His speech was interrupted by a noise coming from the ground below. Seconds later, they all heard a thud on the stairs – someone was reaching the top with an unbelievable speed. The dragons raised their heads, intrigued by the arrival of a new member of a company, while the Vikings understood they were not being visited by a representative of their own kind.

The “steps” were ringing close, and soon the Riders saw what – or better said, _who_ – was making them. A black dragon head appeared above the edge of a platform and green eyes sparkled, reflecting the flame of a dying fire.

“Toothless?! But what are you -”


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4  
I _do_ understand**

_It's gotta get easier and easier somehow_   
_But not today_   
_Not today_

* * *

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!”

Hiccup felt someone hit him with the palm of their hand, the back of his head being the target. That certainly wasn’t the way of waking he would’ve chosen for himself, especially, when a strike was being followed by Snotlout’s nervous shouts.

“Get up from over that stack of papers. Come on, there is no time!”

The young Chief straightened up and rubbed his eyes. He sincerely disliked the idea of falling asleep over the documents – gods only knew how much time he could’ve waisted – but what he disliked even _more_ was the thought of Snoutlout seeing him in this state. He hid his face in his hands, resting his elbows on the desk.

“What is it now?” he muttered, remaining in the same position.

“Hiccup, we need to talk.”

“And you’re sure we have to do it in the middle of the night?” The Viking lowered his arms, glancing at his companion and raised his eyebrows in an ironic manner. “Is this another one of your priceless confessions? If you’re planning to ask me for an intercession with Ruffnut – _again –_ I’ve already told you what I think about this whole courtship. I refused three days ago – and I haven’t changed my mind since. And please, believe me, plaguing me with it at the time like this certainly won’t make it any more plausible.”

Snotlout kept staring at him, with a look free from any trace of understanding; Hiccup focused on tidying the table.

“Whereas you wish to tell me about how hopeless your situation is, I all the more refuse. I truly regret it, but I really can’t offer you a shoulder to cry on. As you might have noticed, in the matter of broken hearts I’m a terrible authority.”

He still sat by the desk, segregating the papers that were covering it. He didn’t even bother to look at his unwelcome guest – the Chief knew it would annoy Snotlout extremely, just like the ironic attitude of his voice did and yet, he couldn’t care less.

His friend shook his head with disbelief.

“I hate you. You know that.”

“How could I forget.”

Eventually, Hiccup gave the paperwork up and turned back, slinging his arm over the back of his chair.

“So? What is it?”

Snotlout shifted from foot to foot, not sure where to start. The other Viking sighed impatiently.

“Struck dumb, I see. Come on Snotlout, just say it. Two minutes ago you were yelling right into my ear, complaining there was no time to spare. What’s the big deal?”

“We’ve got a visitor. Here, on Berk. We’ve found… Toothless has found someone on the beach.” Snotlout didn’t seem to feel well with the entire situation. Hiccup raised his eyebrows again. “She’s at the Twins’ now; she looks tired, cold and barely conscious.”

“I guess she’s also frail, has dark hair and absolutely glorious green eyes.” A derisive grin left no doubt about the Chief’s attitude toward the matter. Snotlout’s eyes widened in astonishment.

“Yes, but how did you -”

“Maybe you should just tell Heather she’ll be just as welcomed here if she decides to visit us in a more... _conventional_ way.”

He well knew he shouldn’t have carried on the conversation in this manner, but he had more than a few reasons to do so.

First, he was irritated by the very fact of waking him up at the beginning and distracting him from his work later. Second, he had a perfect chance to tease Snotlout and being in his current mood, he simply couldn’t have missed the opportunity. Third, he was highly surprised himself, when his companion confirmed his humorous speculations about the stranger. The correspondence with their adventure from a couple of years back was striking; he couldn’t have resist giving it a sarcastic commentary.

“Stop fooling about. It’s serious.”

“Okay, okay. I’m coming.” Hiccup stood up and approached a bed, next to which he kept his armour. Snotlout threw up his hands in a helpless gesture.

“Really? I’m saying the case is urgentand you’re walking off to put those stupid clothes on -”

Before he’d finished, Hiccup was ready to leave. He took hold of his helmet but dropped it immediately; that _would_ have been an excess.

“I really don’t understand how it could be of any use now.”

“You never know.” The young Chief waved his hand at the stairs. “After you.”

The moment they had closed the door behind them, they were enfolded by the cool, brisk air. Hiccup breathed freely; it was good to leave after all.

“Not much chance of Toothless hanging around, is it?” he asked. “Do you think Hookfang would be kind enough to give me a ride or should I have a walk?”

Snotlout laughed nervously, avoiding his friend’s gaze.

“Oh, right. Looks like both of our dragons found the dark haired beauty their riders superior.” Hiccup smiled.

“I’d say Hookfang simply understood the necessity of staying where he’s really needed.” A soft note of a wounded pride resounded in the other Viking’s voice. But he had caught the joke.

The men pulled off briskly, neither of them speaking. Hiccup was becoming more and more curious about the exceptional position they’d found themselves in; at the same time, he was starting to regret his previous dalliance. In a case like this, he should’ve dropped all of his occupations at once and got to the Twins’ hut as quickly as possible. He realised that’s exactly how he would’ve behaved before – and it would’ve never occurred to him that he might be doing anything extraordinary.

Had he really changed so much?

His mind was occupied by one more thought. It was Toothless, who found the newcomer – the boy was starting to see a connection between the events of the previous day, which he’d completely ignored earlier. He remembered his mount’s behaviour; not only his crazy acrobatics during the flight but also the murmurs and nudges he’d been giving to his Rider for the entire afternoon. That meant Toothless had already known, or sensed at least, that something had been going on.

And being the fool he was, he hadn’t understood.

“You know, I’ve never claimed she was a beauty.”

“What?” Hiccup twitched, roused from his meditation.

“I’ve never called her a beauty,” his friend repeated. “I didn’t even say she was pretty.”

“What are you… oh, yeah.” It took him a while to realise what Snotlout’s comment was referring to. “I don’t know, I said that without thinking. To be honest, at the beginning I didn’t even assume it would be a _she_. As long as you didn’t mention her staying at the Twins’ I’d been sure we’d have to deal with one of Johann’s charming visits.”

He fell silent for a second.

“Also, I don’t think you’d care for an ugly one that much.”

The representative of a Jorgenson House stopped, astonished.

“Hey!” he cried bitterly. “That’s not true!”

“I’m kidding!” Hiccup replied immediately, trying hard to stop himself from laughing. “Calm down! Of course not. But you did admit her eyes were noteworthy, you can’t deny _that._ Besides, I’m ready to bet that no matter what she looks like, you’ll lose both your heads and hearts for her – all three of you.”

Snotlout quickly made the necessary calculation.

“Three? And why _three_ , exactly?” he asked. “Who do you consider more resistant?”

“I’ve already seen you three in action, more than once to be fair; I know what to expect.” Hiccup answered with a steady voice. “I can’t be that sure about Eret. But you’re probably right, he shouldn’t stand out from the crowd.”

“And what makes you think we’ll lose our hearts at all?” the other Viking didn’t give up.

“Snotlout, please. I can see you running around Ruff, trying to outdo one another at the ideas of impressing her – which still doesn’t prevent you from forgetting about her as soon as Heather appears. And you know there are more examples we could bring.”

Snotlout muttered something that was clearly meant to be his answer.

“So you see. You, Fishlegs and Tuffnut make three. Eret as the fourth. Quite a team, I’d say.” The Chief smiled weakly. “Looks like I’m the only one not to join it.”

“You never know.” His companion laughed awkwardly; then, noticing his friend’s eyebrows wrinkled, he cleared his throat and added: “There still is Ruff. You won’t be left _all_ alone.”

Hiccup peered at him, and, for the first time in weeks, he burst into a laugh. It wasn’t loud – it was sincere, though. But again, for an answer like this, he couldn’t have reacted in any other way.

He breathed a sigh of relief. At this very moment, he felt just like he’d used to feel in their good, old days – not that he missed Snotlout’s malicious remarks and the belief of his own shameless weakness; but that miserable period was ended when they were almost forced to rely on each other. Their sarcastic comments certainly had not – if anything, the amount of them only grew, especially on his side – but it hadn’t been long before a true friendliness appeared between the lines. And it weren’t them only. Soon enough the whole group had learned to behave in a similar way – or maybe they’d simply realised how much they’d cared for one another.

Hiccup had just realised that again.

And all of a sudden, it occurred to him how terribly much he missed them.

“Hiccup?”

“Yes?” The Chief recognised that only a couple of yards separated them from their destination.

“Please be so kind and hold back those ironic remarks of yours,” Snotlout suggested, firmly. “She doesn’t look very self-confident, to say the least.”

“I promise to behave my best,” Hiccup answered in a most serious manner. “I’m not going to say much anyway. It’s your job.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re the one who found her. She’s yours.”

“Hiccup, it’s a girl!”

“I know, right? How lucky is that.” The man turned back right before the door. As usual, Snotlout remained a few steps behind.

“Did you just…?”

“I am only repeating your own words,” the Chief resisted. “It’s exactly what you said after finding Heather. Now, shall we?”

Snotlout remained still at his spot.

“That was more than five years ago.”

“So?”

“How can you even remember that?”

Hiccup lowered his head, grinning. He shrugged.

“This is how I am. There is this one particular feature, very useful when it comes to pointing other people’s slips.”

“And it is…?”

“Quite pathological memory for quotes.”

He opened the door.

* * *

She was sitting on a hard, wooden bed, swathed in a blanket. She’d bent her legs, so she could’ve rested her chin on her knees with no trouble. Her sight was fixed on the floor below her and she only lifted her head as she’d heard the voice of one or another of the people surrounding her. In a low voice, they were comparing their impressions, which she obviously couldn’t have heard – but, then again, she wasn’t really trying on her side. Apparently their speeches weren’t meant for her and she didn’t care for any information that couldn’t be delivered in the most direct way.

There was something that occupied her thoughts, though – why hadn’t she been called upon so far? Why had she got nothing except a polite, but formal, _“Please, take your seat”_?

And that one question she couldn’t have answered.

She bit her lips in nervousness and looked around. Her hosts didn’t seem to be particularly self-confident at the moment either.

‘ _They clearly are waiting for something’_ she thought. ‘ _Looks like they don’t know how to act about it themselves. But what can I do?’_

“Are you feeling warmer now?” a tall man asked her; he looked older that anyone else in the room, but still, he couldn’t have been thirty yet. He knelt down, so their eyes would meet on the same level. She nodded. “You’re sure?”

She smiled and confirmed. The man stood up and, turning back to his friends, he said, “I guess that’s a start. Where is he?”

“Loki knows.” A boy who settled nearby shrugged. “Not where he should be, for sure.”

A girl stood next to him; she nodded her agreement. Her long, fair hair were similar to his, and so was her height. To tell the truth, they didn’t differ much in general. At least that was an impression their embarrassed observer had, watching them in a weak candle light. Going against her previous resolution, she started listening in to their talk.

“He’s probably sitting there, planning the whole week in advance,” The oldest representative of the group spoke again. “I’m starting to believe that all this guy does is planning and fulfilling his own plans.”

“It must be important. Hiccup wouldn’t procrastinate without a good reason, not in a situation like this.”

‘ _Who?’_ A thought flashed through her mind.

“Or maybe he’s just sleeping?” the blond-haired girl suggested from across the room. Her voice was sharp, but somehow it instilled sympathy. “It’s the middle of the night.”

The rest of the company looked at her almost piteously.

“Forgive us, but we can’t welcome you properly until our Chief arrives.” With a constant, friendly smile the tall Viking turned to her. “But don’t worry. He should be here any moment.”

‘ _So Hiccup is a Chief...’_ she marvelled. _‘What is it with those names...’_

This far she managed to understand that the _chubby_ – she really didn’t want to call him _fat –_ boy, who’d taken care of her at the very beginning was called Fishlegs. She also knew that one of the Vikings bore a name of Snotlout – apparently, he was now serving them as a messenger. Who was Hiccup, though?

At first, she pictured a short, skinny lad, definitely a teenager; somebody who had to be younger than her. But now she heard about a _Chief_ , and this word carried a very different meaning. The frail boy transformed into a tall, muscular warrior, with a severe sight and a thick beard.

Who was that man, then?

* * *

‘ _Calm down, Hiccup. Just be kind.’_

A wooden floor creaked when he had crossed the threshold. The young Chief quickly investigated the area, noticing a bed placed in a very atypical location, right next to the fireplace. It was surrounded by the Riders so compactly, that he couldn’t see the newcomer, who – as he had assumed – was staying there. He walked slowly in its direction, coughing meaningfully, to inform about his appearance. His friends turned back and parted, letting him take his place next to the bed.

While he was approaching them, Eret gestured at him and with a conventional tone, he spoke, “There he is, the Chief of Berk, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third.”

_The Chief of Berk_ glanced at the trapper with little enthusiasm – he well knew how to make the presentation himself. He turned to the girl that sat next to them; on her face he saw an astound she didn’t even try to hide.

‘ _Oh, of course,’_ he thought, feeling slightly offended. ‘ _Probably not the image she expected. Unfortunately, Berk doesn’t have the most impressive leader to boast about.’_ In a reflex action, he frowned, displeased; the girl lowered her head immediately.

‘ _Get it together. That was supposed to be kind?’_

He cleaned his throat.

“So, welcome to Berk.”

She looked up once more. He had a feeling that she wanted to smile at him, but didn’t know if that would be appreciated. Hiccup understood perfectly who was to blame for that anxiety of hers but he didn’t quite know what could’ve been done about it now. He decided to get straight to business, hoping that the stranger would forgive him his first, certainly not the best, impression.

“I’m very sorry for not coming earlier, but there were some other... occupations I had to take care of. I believe my friends gave you all of the necessary attention and served you properly. You usually can rely on them on that.”

The Vikings exchanged surprised looks, astonished by their Chief’s words and most importantly, by the way they were pronounced. What the deuce was going on?

“Why is he so stiff?” Tuffnut whispered, before his sister rebuked him with a punch on the side.

“I hope today wasn’t any different,” Hiccup finished, still gazing in the girl’s green eyes. She affirmed.

He’d heard Tuffnut’s little speech and as a matter of fact, he couldn’t have disagreed. The man realised how ridiculous he must’ve appeared to those who knew him, but he’d come here as a Chief, having neither time nor wish for a cordial welcoming. What he also hoped for, was that his unusual seriousness would at least keep him from further impoliteness – which could easily occur if he hadn’t been most focused on his task.

Besides, there were facts that had to be shared.

“What’s your name?” he asked, trying to make his smile look a little more sincere. Apparently, he failed.

The Viking noticed how the girl tightened her lips, leaning in the opposite direction. Before she’d lowered her eyes, the young Chief caught the sight of trust leaving her and being replaced by the fear he couldn’t have understood; what was it he said?

“Hey,” he tried again, bending to her. “If we’re to be useful, you must tell us something about you first. It really isn’t a difficult question. Do you hear me? _Hey!”_

With the last – certainly not the kindest _–_ shout he made the girl look up at him. There wasn’t much fear in her glance now; instead, he spotted an infinite confusion, which can only be seen on a friend’s face. She was staring at him, as if she’d been trying to recognize someone she knew. Someone else. Or more like…

Someone he should’ve been.

Hiccup stepped back, struck with the power of that look – he’d never expected to see all that. He gritted his teeth and straightened up slowly, praying that his friends wouldn’t notice the tumult inside of him.

How dared she look at him in this way?

Luckily for him, the company assembled around the bed didn’t seem to pay attention on this minor occurrence. One more time the room resonated with the Rider’s whispers, undoubtedly desiring to communicate something.

“There’s no point in asking that, Hiccup.” Fishlegs mumbled at last, and then, with a distinct reluctance he informed, “We already have… But she doesn’t answer. She just shakes her head and stays quiet.”

“And _no one_ was smart enough to let me know about that earlier?” Hiccup gave a vent to his growing irritation in the manner of his comment. He turned to their guest one more time, now carefully avoiding her sight. “And can you tell us anything else? Anything at all? Do you even understand what I’m saying, or am I wasting my breath for nothing?”

He spun on his heel, furious. He didn’t know who had made him more mad – she, putting him in such an awkward position, or himself, losing his temper so easily. The young Chief couldn’t have understood how one look had been able to make his blood boil.

That and his friends, who hadn’t think of sharing their discovery before he’d make a fool of himself.

He spotted their looks, full of reproach. With the greatest exertion he refrained from grunting in answer. He had no idea what to do next.

“I _do_ understand.”

He froze. So, after all…

“I do. I can speak, too, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Her voice was calm, more like a whisper than a normal speech. “But I can’t answer your question. I’m sorry.”

Even without looking, she felt everyone watching her. She hesitated.

“I don’t remember.”

There was a sudden murmur in the hut. The Rider’s couldn’t have not been surprised by her confession; on the other hand, they all felt relieved knowing there would be no basic communication problems.

Hiccup remained silent, as the only one standing with his back turned on her, thinking of what he should say now. He’d messed up as badly as he possibly could have, there was no point pretending he had not. _‘And I cared for frowning.’'_ He thought bitterly.

However, his meditations were of no use now; he had to put an end to that farce, as quickly as possible. He decided to return to the formal way of speaking, which seemed to be so helpful at the beginning, assuming that sudden friendliness would resemble rather forced and insincere; no matter how noble his intentions would’ve been.

The young man thought she deserved his apologies. But even this seemed to be fake now.

He turned back.

“In this case, there’s no point mulling over it, especially at the moment. You must feel exhausted. Ruff, Tuff, make sure our guest lacks nothing tonight. We’ll get back to it tomorrow, when we all calm down.”

With a quick gesture he commanded the rest to leave the dwelling. They all obeyed, although it was obvious that none of them really wanted to carry out this specific order. In the general confusion Hiccup managed to dissuade Tuffnut from the crowd.

“Try to keep Barf and Belch outside. Something is telling me she’s not a person used to the sight of dragons.”

“How do you know she hasn’t seen them yet, huh?” His friend glanced at him sceptically. “Haven’t you heard who found her?”

“Toothless found her unconscious,” the Chief answered sternly. “She came round here. I am not that ignorant.”

He sighed, resigned. “I’m just asking you not to frighten her any more.”

“Sure. That’s your job, isn’t it?”

“Just do what I told you.”

He nodded his goodbye and left, not even glancing at the green-eyed girl sitting in the centre of the room. He really needed to rest.

And before that, he had to complete the work he’d been taken away from.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5  
** **It’s just a name**

_It’s a new world – it’s a new start  
It’s alive with the beating of young hearts_

* * *

A wooden bed creaked when she rolled from side to the other. During the past couple of minutes, she’d done it three times already – all in hope that she would eventually fall asleep again. A few hours of rest she had received so far was enough to make her feel _better_ , but was definitely too little to bring her back to her _normal_ condition.

Besides, for some reasons she felt particularly unwilling to get up that day.

She pressed her face against the hard pillow, pulling the blanket over her head. It was cold; definitely _too_ cold for her standards. Still half-asleep, she was slowly starting to understand where she was and how she’d got there. She remembered two places – a sunny, cool beach and a room, rather spacious, lightened with nothing but a gentle flame of a fire burning in the centre of it; that was probably the room in which she was staying now. With her face under the thick covering, she couldn’t be sure, though.

Regardless of that, she still wasn’t able to connect the two places mentioned above, knowing she could by no means get through the distance between them, no matter how short her way would be. She realised that her host-Vikings – how on earth had she even happened to be among _Vikings_? - must have found her when she still lay on the shore unconscious and, concerned about her state, they’d brought her to this house, where she’d finally come round.

As for the rest, she remembered it perfectly well.

Reluctantly, she uncovered her face and looked around. Both doors and windows (very _few_ windows, as she easily noticed) were shut; but the streaks of light sneaking inside through crevices forced her to suspect that the morning was far behind her. The thought of her hosts being awake for good couple of hours, while she’d been still sprawling in bed, embarrassed her. It really didn’t matter that the bed was as uncomfortable, as it could possibly be.

‘ _Come on, girl, pull yourself together. A guest is a guest, but your hosts also deserve some respect.’_

With a firm move, she threw off the blanket she’d been wrapped up in. She jerked up and sat straight, gracefully putting her legs over the edge of the bed and placing them on the floor. The suddenness of that movement gave her head a spin; it might have been, that if she hadn’t hold on to the furniture, she would have caved in on the ground. Fortunately, the unpleasant sensation was gone soon enough, allowing her to focus on her previous thoughts again.

Once more, she investigated the room, showing even more attention than she had earlier. It occurred to her that the locators were most probably staying outside the house – but she couldn’t hear the faintest sound coming from there, either.

‘ _Could it be that my hosts value silence so much?’_ the girl wondered, getting up. She folded the covering, and together with the pillow, she put it at the foot of the bed.

‘ _Or they simply care not to disturb_ _ **you**_ _,’_ _s_ he gave herself an immediate answer. Her new friends needed to understand there was no reason to care for her that much.

And then it whacked.

She started, surprised by the unexpected noise. Anxious, she wanted to run out of the house to find out what had happened, as the only thing she could conclude at the time was a fall of something extremely heavy – but neither the metallic clang of iron nor the thud of beams, chipping one another in the process, explained anything more than that.

She reached the door in no time, wanting to make sure that no one needed her help; but before she’d managed to pull the handle, her ears were approached by a female voice, clumsily imitating a whisper.

“Are you _insane_?!” the owner of an angry voice hissed. “How is she supposed to sleep?!”

“Everything would be all right, if that _reptile of yours_ did what he ought to do,” someone else bridled.

“Who has even let you mount that _reptile of mine_?!” the annoyed woman didn’t stop snapping. “Barf and Belch were supposed to be staying far away from here!”

The brunette standing at the door smiled. If a disturbance of her peace was the most dangerous consequence of the accident, she had absolutely no reason to fret.

“And how was I supposed to take them away _without_ mounting them?” a male voice answered truculently, snorting. “You’re denser that Gobber’s fake leg.”

“Now that was exquisite. Stay here, I’ll check if she’s up already.”

Hearing the last words, the girl standing on the other side of the door hastily backed off into the room. She didn’t want to be suspected of eavesdropping other people’s talks – even if that was exactly what she’d been doing.

As soon as she stood by her pallet, a young woman showed up at the threshold; her light hair was plaited in two thick braids. She made here way to the guest, smiling awkwardly.

Eventually, she shrugged her shoulders and asked: “So, um, slept well?”

Her companion glanced at her with gratitude and sent her a warm smile, concurrently wondering about how to help her interlocutor get rid of that completely unnecessary confusion.

“Very well, thank you. Too well, I’d say; I’m afraid I stayed in bed a bit too long.”

“Nah.” The host waved her hand, attaining her usual confidence. “Nothing to worry about.”

“I really don’t want to overuse your goodwill.” The dark-haired girl wouldn’t yield. “If only I’d known how late it was, I would’ve brought myself to get up hours ago.”

In response to her words she heard a crash of vehemently opened door, which was just as rapidly slammed a moment later. Thus, the other resident of the hut appeared inside of the hut and the sight of him confirmed the suspicions the brunette girl got a night before. The resemblance to the woman standing next to him was striking, not only because of the colour and length of their hair.

‘ _Twins’_ , she thought. A recollection of a quarrel she’d witnessed proved her guess right – no one but siblings could address one another in this way.

“No need for that!” the Viking called out, leaning on the door, as if he wanted to block them. To be true, that was exactly what he was trying to do. “It’s a Thorston House. Here you get up whenever you want to.”

Unable to understand, she turned her eyes on young man’s sister. The latter understood her doubts in no time.

“The family name. Oh, by the way...” She cleared her throat and added, “I’m Ruffnut. And that mutton head over there is my gods-forsaken brother.”

“Hey!” the boy snapped when he finally managed to bar the entrance with a dowel he’d accidentally found nearby. “How about some family solidarity? Do I call you names by strangers?”

He approached them and with no excess preludes, threw in, “Tuffnut.”

The siblings were answered by an amazed expression of the big, green eyes. They glimpsed at each other. Their guest instantly realised the _faux pas_ she’d committed, so with no delay, she added, “Please, forgive me. It’s just… everything is so new.”

“You’ll get used to it,” her female companion waved her hand again. “You’d better get prepared to hear many sillier names. We’re good at it.”

“That’s not what I -”

“No, really, Ruff’s right. You know, hideous names frighten off the trolls and all.” Tuffnut chuckled. “One name worse than another… Think of Snotlout. Please.”

“And on the other hand, what if your name means nothing at all?” his sister picked up briskly. “It doesn’t sound any smarter, does it? Like, Gustav.”

“That would actually mean: _‘the least tolerable kid on the island.’_ Seriously, so little and so annoying. Besides -” The initial mumbling unexpectedly descended into a most enthusiastic speech. “Our names are literally nothing interesting. Just wait until you hear how people name the dra-”

“ _Gra_ ndparents!” Ruffnut quickly chimed in, pressing her hand against her twin’s mouth. “Oh, yeah. When it comes to naming, grandparents are the worst of all.”

The stranger gazed at them, understanding less that little. The pace of their speeches, when they talked about people she couldn’t know, fazed her, while at the same time, she couldn’t miss the behaviour of the blonde Warrior, interrupting her brother’s commentary so eagerly. Her surprised look gained a new, doubtful expression.

_Grandparents._

Yeah, sure.

Curious about what those words were really hiding, she raised her eyebrows in disbelief, still bent on letting the Vikings keep their little secret for some time. She’d find out sooner or later anyway.

“Nah, they’re not,” Tuffnut opposed, when he finally dealt with his torturer’s strong grip. “I’m sure Stoick was the one to pick his son’s name.”

They both giggled.

“What an idea, to name the future Chief of Berk a _Hiccup_. I think Stoick had broken all the records here, including Jorgenson’s family tradition.”

Despite her own laugh, Ruffnut was still able to notice the agitation, that reflected on the guest’s face at the mention of their young leader, and even though the other girl was trying hard not to show it, his behaviour during the night left its rail on her.

“Ehm. Exactly.” The blonde coughed awkwardly. She wanted to poke Tuff, so he would help her change the subject of their talk, but he was standing too far from her.

Fortunately for all of them, the boy didn’t use to attach himself for long to anything – _thoughts_ and _ideas_ in particular – ready to lurch from one topic to another, needing no peculiar impulse to do so. Hence, independently of the nudges Ruffnut had _not_ given him, he was soon sharing new theories with his fair audience.

“Long story short, you’ll _love_ Berk. Nobody has such great ideas as we do here. Think of the yaks. Do you grasp how much a yak can do? Or how much _you_ can do with it? Thank Loki for giving us such amazing creatures. Come on -” he laughed under his breath. “You could set one on fire and the dumb thing wouldn’t even see the difference.”

While Tuffnut was wiping his tears, diverted with his own story, his guest’s amazement was reaching completely new levels. The girl shook her head, trying to erase a picture of the burning animal that appeared in her mind right away.

In the meantime, the host continued, “But yaks aren’t everything, you know. We have the best dra… races in the neighbourhood. You wouldn’t believe how many people watch that! We used to have a Great Regatta, too, but we gave it up. I think we got bored.” He scratched his chin, as if he was trying to recollect something; what he was also doing, was wondering how else could he describe his family island without mentioning its winged habitants.

For lack of further ideas, he eventually observed, “But, that name of yours… _That’s_ a mess.”

A line of this kind had been expected by none of the girls. Even Ruffnut, who knew her brother better than anyone else, had hoped that he would succeed and, at least for the first few minutes, hold his tongue. Now all she could do was to strike her face with a palm of her hand, wanting to remain in that position forever. In a second she was convinced that after those words their guest would justly acknowledge them as the idiots they were, and that she would either take offence – or withdraw. No matter which option she would choose…

...there goes their drive.

‘ _Hiccup will kill us,’_ the Warrior thought, resigned. _‘It would’ve been better to talk about_ _ **him**_ _.’_

The brunette standing nearby took it all a lot less dramatically. Of course, Tuffnut’s word astonished her at first, however, from the very beginning she’d known that the question of her identity would be touched upon, sooner rather than later. She never even thought of taking any offence from anyone, and even though the subject surely didn’t boost her confidence, she by no means intended to bury her head in the sand, avoiding it. At the same time the agitation she saw on her hosts’ faces almost made her laugh.

All of her previous observations were confirmed. She was admitted by a pair of honest, good-natured people, more kind than tactful. The few minutes they had spent together that morning was enough to cause her huge sympathy, and at the same time, make her lenient with this sort of slips on their side. For those reasons, the matter that had stricken such a fear into her on the night before, looked all less overwhelming in the light of the day.

“True,” she spoke after a while. She smiled cordially towards her new friends to give them to understand that she didn’t feel insulted at all. “That’s an unpleasant business but unfortunately, nothing has changed since yesterday, and I still can’t tell you much.”

Abashed, she lowered her eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, come on!” Ruffnut approached her, sending her brother the most meaningful death glare. “Don’t worry about that. A mess or not, we’ll figure something out.”

“And I’ve got an idea already!” Tuff shouted out with an excited voice. Ruffnut rolled her eyes and blasted him with her glare again.

“Don’t you dare.”

“But I -”

“We have enough of your ideas for today. You’d better take care of the yaks.” The young woman wasn’t going to retreat. “ _Now_.”

Her brother clung tightly to a post which buttressed the ceiling.

“No way! You need to know what I mean!”

“We don’t need to know anything. Go on, you mutton head, beat it!” She turned to her new acquaintance. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“But I _am_ right!”

Ruffnut came near him and whispered something in a dropped voice. At first, the boy cuddled up to the post even harder, fearing that his sister would try to drag him away from it by force. However, as he listened to her, he himself loosened his grip and pulled away from the pole. Disappointment reflected on his face.

“Whatever,” he answered gruffly, making his way to the door and removing the security he’d put on it earlier. “Just remember to let me know when you find a way to call someone who can’t be named.”

Ruffnut opened her mouth and transfixed. She didn’t have a clue how to answer that.

Her companion proved to be more resourceful. Assuming it was time to intervene, she approached the Warrior and put a hand on her shoulder.

And then, with all her straightforwardness, she asked, “Let him speak.”

Tuffnut was showing no intention to wait for permission. He jumped towards them, and full of spirit, he started to introduce his plan.

“Okay, so that’s what we’ll do. You do not remember your name, because your head got stricken in that storm, or whatever it was. But it doesn’t matter. The point is, we have to call you _some_ _thing_ , right?”

‘ _What is he up to?’_ A thought crossed his hardly-known friend’s mind.

‘ _Gods, no ,’_ Ruffnut whispered in her own.

“What I mean is, we won’t get to know your real name anyway. It’s a shame, but, well. Tough luck. Still, there’s no need for making it sound so dramatic. So -” At this point Tuffnut paused, just to make sure he had the full attention of the involved party. “-we will give you a brand new name instead.”

Content with his performance, the Viking smiled triumphally and crossed his arms on his chest, waiting for an answer. He had no doubts that the plan would achieve a complete approval of his little audience.

“That’s the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” his sister summed up immediately. “I hereby disown you!”

“Well, it seems to me that you haven’t come up with anything better, _genius,_ ” Tuff retorted. “Besides, it’s not about you. What do _you_ think?” He addressed his other interlocutor.

The strange girl hesitated. The idea wasn’t as silly, as her companion thought it to be, which still didn’t mean she was convinced to it. Quite the opposite, her head was full of doubts and furthermore, she wondered what reaction she would cause by choosing any of the sides. She shifted her sight on Ruffnut, who answered her with an anticipative look.

The brunette lowered her head and replied shyly, “I think you may be right.”

Having that said, she glanced at her female host, as if she wanted to apologise for her opinion. “I don’t know if there will be any opportunity for calling me at all, but… It will make things easier, for sure. Easier for everyone.”

“Not having a name can be uncomfortable, right?” Tuffnut laughed. “Okay, so now we need to think it over, carefully. So it wouldn’t be too long, but still had some sense in it, and -”

“Woah, woah, hold on a second!” Ruff protested, raising her arms above her head. “What’s going on here? Are we _really_ doing this? After everything you’ve heard?”

“Hey, it’s alright,” the green-eyed girl calmed her down. “It’s nothing, really. Besides, what choice do I have?”

“Wait, I think you don’t get it.” The warrior didn’t yield. “After everything we’ve told you about Berkian names, you want _us_ to pick one for you? That makes no sense. You’ll end up as Snottynose or worse.”

“Like Snotlout. Hehe.”

While Tuffnut was commenting his sister’s speech, their guest fought her own thoughts. Ruff was right – putting trust in the Vikings, hoping they would give her a name that wouldn’t bring shame to her, couldn’t be justified. She would be naive supposing that she could entrust them with a quest of this kind.

On the other hand, what difference did it make?

“It’s just a name.”

From the very beginning, the incapability of recalling anything that could link her to her previous life, terrified her. She remembered neither people, nor places. Colours, scents, features of faces – it seemed as if none of it had ever existed. She felt like she’d lost herself, and the fact that she couldn’t even remember her own name proved it better than any description.

It didn’t matter what name she’d get as a replacement – it would never be _her_ name.

“Look, we can deal with it in a different way.” Ruffnut’s voice roused her from meditation. “You decide how we should call you. It will be smarter than if we do it, that’s one thing for sure.”

“Me? Myself?” She glared at her interlocutor, astonished.

“Yeah. Why not?”

“Because… I don’t know. But you never choose the name by yourself.”

“Oh, come on.” Ruff shrugged one more time. “Why would anyone care about that?”

The dark-haired woman sighed. She didn’t feel any desire for that naming thing whatsoever; but she shouldn’t make things difficult for them because of her moods.

“Listen, it really doesn’t matter if I like it or not. If anyone ever uses it, it will be you. Choose something that will be comfortable for you, and I’ll try to learn to react to it. Let’s hope it’s just a temporary change.”

“Not so fast, young woman,” Tuffnut bridled at her. “You think it’s that easy? You are mistaken, my friend. It’s an incredibly serious business, a matter of highest importance, if I may say so. That is why -”

“Just pick one of the names you know” his sister interrupted mercilessly. “That will be the best option, I tell you.”

“Mhm.”

The guest’s answer made Ruffnut realise how ridiculous her proposition was; unfortunately, a split second too late. She bit her lips in embarrassment, seeing her brother’s pitying look. She nailed it, no doubt about that.

“But, hey, you really remember _nothing_? _Absolutely nothing_?” Tuff asked eventually. “Like, none? Zip? Zilch?”

The girl glanced at him. She didn’t remember her own name, why should she remember any other? And yet she couldn’t be upset with them, she saw how they did their best to help her. She inhaled deeply.

“I -”

She managed to say no more, when all three of them heard a snap of the door, broken down from the hinges. She turned back instinctively and froze, dumbfounded, as she’d seen something she had never expected to see in her life.

Through an empty door-frame, two green dragon heads were leaning towards her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6  
Love, Ruffnut. Love.**

_I know everybody on this island_  
has a role on this island  
so maybe I can roll with mine.

* * *

“Grandparents?!” The dark-haired girl was still staring at the spot where just a moment earlier there was a heavy, wooden door, unable to take her gaze off the animal that had forced it open. “Grandparents?” She exclaimed again.

“How many times is she going to ask that?” Tuffnut whispered.

“Shut up,” his sister drawled through her gritted teeth. “Just shut up.”

“But -”

Barf and Belch purred joyfully at the sight of the stranger, not showing the slightest sign of interest in their agitated Riders’ reaction.

“Hiccup will kill us,” the young man sighed with resignation, making his statement complete. Ruffnut confidently shattered his anxiety at once.

“Not at all,” she hissed. “Hiccup will only get to me. As to you, I bet I’ll manage to take care of you first.”

Tuffnut swallowed, now seriously concerned; he was well aware, that on the contrary to Snotlout, the girl didn’t use to make idle threats. _Especially_ threats.

Too focused on one another, they didn’t care to watch the scene playing in front of them, and while they were wondering on how they would explain the current situation to their Chief, the dragon approached their new acquaintance, eyeing her with curiosity. The young woman remained motionless, even though seeing the intruder didn’t make her feel any sort of fear. Without a second of hesitation, she returned the glare. Her heart skipped a beat, as she had noticed two green heads leaning down to her – she refrained the natural urge to keep the safe distance, though, and didn’t step back. Having inhaled deeply, she calmly raised both of her hands at the waist level, turning her palms towards the creature.

She waited.

“Or maybe he won’t be that mad?” Tuff suggested anxiously in the meantime, glancing at his sister. “He must’ve known what would happen. No one ever believes that we can do the job as we should, right?”

“Oh, gods.” Ruffnut stammered, making her brother look in her direction once again.

“What?” taken aback with the change of her tone, he started to scan her with a suspicious attentiveness. “What is it? What are you staring at?”

Ruff made no answer, gazing at the spot before her with the same disbelief – and only her mouth was opening wider and wider.

The other Viking followed her gaze and lowered his jaw even more.

“Did she just -” he started, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. “I mean – that is – the hand! She’s doing the hand thing!”

Ruffnut still wasn’t going to say a word; the only commentary she could give at the moment was the rhythmical wagging of her head from side to side. However, after a moment of silence, the room echoed with the double yell. “But how?!”

The brunette turned around, hearing their excited voices, not entirely sure of what they were up to. She didn’t understand what Tuffnut meant by the term of the hand thing – but instead of pondering about it, she focused her attention on the scaled animal, which was currently snuggling its two muzzles into her open hands. Her grin widened.

“How did you even do that?” She heard just a couple of seconds later, when the Twins jumped toward her, almost concurrently appearing by her side. Even if she’d had an answered prepared in a week’s advance, she wouldn’t manage to pronounce it – thinking of it was absolutely out of the question; the first query was just an earnest of the avalanche that was about to come.

“Where did you learn that?” Tuffnut kept glancing alternatively at her and his mount.

“Did you figure it out yourself?” His sister wanted to know desperately.

“So you’ve seen dragons before?”

“Are you from the Archipelago?”

“Have you been training with someone?”

“Mala, maybe? You’re one of hers?”

Having listened to every where, why and when called out by her shocked hosts, the strange girl shook her head and laughed quietly. She slowly took her hands back and lowered her arms along her body; as if commanded to do so, Barf and Belch raised their heads, deciding to watch the whole play from the proper height.

“Did you really look them in the eyes?”

After this last question, silence finally fell on the large dwelling. The girl looked at the female warrior and carefully dispelled not only that, but all of their doubts.

“I don’t understand why I should not do that.” With quiet astonishment, she observed her hosts. “But no, I have never had anything to do with dragons… or I simply don’t remember it, which in my situation is more than probable.”

“And nobody taught you to train them?” Tuffnut pressured, his incredulity clearly growing.

“Except for the fact I can’t remember that either, I don’t think so. Why would anyone teach me that if I most likely didn’t have any contact with them? Ten minutes ago I didn’t even believe they were anything more than some legendary creatures.”

“So how did you know -”

“Woman’s intuition.” She winked at him jokingly, amused by the Viking’s disoriented expression. “Before I’d had time to take fright, I saw the reflections of their eyes; your friends didn’t look as if they were going to eat me. Oh -” A realisation crossed her mind. “what’s the matter with the actual looking? And what exactly is the hand thing?”

This time it was Ruff who answered her. Somehow confused, she explained that this was the term they used for a trick – or more like, a gesture – which helped to break the first, thus, most important, barrier between a Rider and his dragon. Any dragon, in fact. In a few words, she clarified how the process looked each time – and what was its connection to the forming of eye contact.

“It’s not like we didn’t try,” she added in a manner of conclusion. “Most of the Vikings, if only they aren’t shaking in their boots while standing in front of the Monstrous Nightmare completely defenceless, trie to look them in the eyes. But it never works if they do. When Hiccup tried it with Toothless for the first time, it didn’t work either.”

Their guest remained silent for a while, with her sight fixed on the creature standing before her. After that moment – more to confirm her speculation than because of the lack of knowledge – she asked, “Toothless is your Chief’s dragon?”

“Yeah,” Ruffnut agreed. “The very first dragon trained on Berk. He found you on that beach last night.”

“Oh.” Her companion’s voice suggested muffled astonishment. “Is he a two headed dragon as well?”

“No. It’s a Night Fury. He may seem small, but he’s one of the greatest dragons, and as it goes, he’s also the Alpha. He may be the last of his kind.”

“Your Chief must have troubled a lot before he achieved his aim.”

“Wanna see how it looked like?” Tuff interrupted them eventually; the tone of his exclamation could make one think he’d watched the entire incident with his own eyes. “Here, it always looks the same.”

He approached his mount and took up a position. Facing the girls, he raised his right arm at the level of his ear, reaching sidewards.

“You have to do it slowly, very slowly… You don’t even glance at the dragon, not for a second…”

As to confirm his theory, the boy lowered his head, closed his eyes and…

“AAARRGHHH!” an overly dramatic scream resonated in the room, tearing the momentary silence like a blade of an axe. The two women who had been observing the performance carefully, winced; Tuffnut’s hand was trapped between Belch’s jaws, clogged in a clasp that didn’t look gentle in the least. When the boy finally managed to free himself from the trap, his new friend noticed with relief that – as in contradiction to her fears – he hadn’t received any serious wounds.

He kept howling nevertheless.

“Stupid dragon! Stupid! Why are we even keeping you here? Agh! Funny, aren’t we? Not enough pranking done lately? Ugh, I am hurt! I am very much hurt! And don’t you laugh Mr Jokster, I’m not done with you here!”

“Generally, we call it bonding,” Ruff summed it up coolly. “Of course, it’s not how it usually ends. If the rider is sane – which, unfortunately isn’t the case here – and is working with a normal dragon, then the latter should rest his muzzle on his hand.”

Her interlocutor pondered over, while Ruffnut continued her speech.

“That’s how it should look like. Arm up, head down. Make a mistake, glance at the beast and everything goes haywire… But it seems like you’ve just refuted that theory.”

The two companions peered at one another, equally amused.

“I didn’t mean to refute anything,” the dark-haired woman responded; regardless the sincerity of her words and convictions, her voice resonated with a note of satisfaction, not entirely acknowledged by the lady herself. For the first time, she didn’t feel like an intruder in this house; she also felt that, maybe, with a little bit of luck, she as well would manage to find her place in this new, surprising world.

Maybe she’d also have a chance to bond.

“That looking thing… It’s no big deal, really,” she resumed after a while, simultaneously feeling one of the big heads poking her side, trying to catch her attention. She gently tickled the animal’s jaw. “To be fair, I don’t quite understand why is that an obstacle. If there are no bad intentions on your side, an honest gaze is the best proof of it, right?”

“Well, maybe.” Ruff shrugged, her thoughts clearly focused on something else. “But you looked… differently? Like there was something more in that look.”

“Love, Ruffnut, love.” The brunette laughed wholeheartedly, grasping the snuggling dragon’s head in both of her hands; bending, she was almost touching his muzzle with her own nose. “Come on, how can you not adore such an amazing creature?”

For more than a few moments, the Viking girl kept watching their guest, so eagerly tickling the green dragon, as if she had done nothing else in her entire life. The warrior had already forgotten that the whole event would have to be reported to their Chief – with all the details that occurred – so the thought that everything had turned out so well didn’t bring the feeling of relief she normally would have felt.

And in fact, in turned out much better than they could have hoped.

Too focused on her own observation, the girl successfully forgot not only her Chief, but even her own brother, who unexpectedly appeared right behind her back. Still rubbing his right hand, he elbowed her and cleared his throat meaningfully.

“Hey, where do you think she’s from?”

Ruffnut gave him a disrespectful glare and shrugged her shoulders again.

“Seriously.” The boy clearly wasn’t going to give up. “She’s doing much better than we ever have. Someone had to train her. Maybe… Heather?”

“Yeah, sure. And right after that, she taught her to throw an axe and knock down the Hunters with her bare hands.”

“Wait, Heather can do that?” Tuff stepped back abruptly, glancing briefly at the brunette standing nearby; his sister noticed a spark of anxiety flickering in his eyes. “And you think that… No, no, wait. No way. She wouldn’t even handle an...”

“Of course not, you mutton head,” Ruffnut spat with contempt. “Just look at her, she must be the most fragile girl in the entire Archipelago.”

“So how does she know how to deal with dragons?”

“Maybe she just knows?”

“Just knows?”

“Yeah.”

“Or, maybe...” The Viking suddenly took a pose full of dramatic secrecy. “It’s just another of the Hunter’s wicked plans, and she’s here to get the inform... Ouch!”

A mighty blow on the back of his head was a representation clear enough of what Ruff thought of her brother’s suppositions – who, on his side, understood that without much wondering about it. Having noticed that his shout caused their companion to pay attention, he bared his teeth in a silly grin, pretending that there was nothing worth of her interest. Glancing sideways, he noticed his sister doing the exact same thing.

He cleared his throat once more.

“So, if that’s settled...” he opened. “Maybe we could think of what’s next?”

“You still mean the name, I guess.” The green-eyed girl looked at him knowingly. “Summon the council. Let’s see what you guys can come up with for me. And by the way – would it be too much to ask for a piece of bread to bite? I’m starving.”

With a flourish, he brushed the last of the charts aside.

* * *

He inhaled deeply; leaning back in his chair, he abruptly threw his arms up, trying to stretch his aching muscles. He yawned lingeringly, relieved to find his work done.

Having rubbed his eyes, he stood up, and almost mechanically, he headed towards the bowl, placed at the usual spot. The man couldn’t care less for the mess he’d left on the table, currently covered with the usual amount of papers; the candle that stood on it had burned out long ago, but that was something that Hiccup, occupied with his own plans, didn’t even notice – especially as at the time his desk was already being enlightened with the sharp brightness of the morn. The sun was shining even more intensively now, placed much higher in the sky, however – as surprising as it might have seem – this time the young Chief didn’t mind the fact at all.

“That went much better than I thought,” he stated with vitality, so unusual for him these days; simultaneously, he splattered his face with the fresh spring water, which was just as freezing as on any other day. “I really thought I wouldn’t make it. Though, as a matter of fact, I feel way better than I have for the passed week, so who knows, maybe in the end it will turn out for the best… You know what, if we manage to continue it this way, we may even be able to find some time free for ourselves! What do you say, Bud?”

It wasn’t until then when he realised that his dragon friend wasn’t present neither in his bedroom, nor – as he figured quite quickly – anywhere near it. He sighed, disappointed, though free from his usual bitterness.

“Yeah, right. Staying where you’re really needed, I suppose.”

He glanced at his desk, and despite of his previous resolutions, he decided to put it into order. His thoughts however were still floating around Toothless, and as much as he hated the idea, the Viking couldn’t deny that his behaviour towards the Night Fury was far from acceptable. He had grasped it the night before, yet unfortunately, ever since then the Rider hadn’t had a chance to see his friend. There was no reason to worry about him at this point – he just wanted to let the dragon know that he’d acknowledged his error as soon as possible, hoping that his repentance would be enough to end that ridiculous misunderstanding.

As long as Toothless wasn’t at least within the man’s sight though, the plan was impossible to carry out. Hiccup couldn’t apologize – and he simply felt bad about it.

Of course, there was one more reason that should have made him feel guilty, but every thought of it was put aside by him so decisively that he almost stopped comprehending it himself. Ignoring the whispers of his own conscious, he gave the room one final look, and trying to make as little noise as possible, he went downstairs.

He was welcomed by an empty room, filled with silence that was so uncommon in this dwelling.

“Mum?” he whispered with uncertainty. He exhaled, receiving no answer.

He wasn’t very proud of himself rejoicing at the absence of his only parent, but on the other hand he was all too well aware of how easily he could be vexed with nothing but the presence of other people, even those who cared for him the most. It was only a day before when he slammed the door right before his mother’s face, only because he couldn’t conquer his own emotions; he feared that, as good-humoured as he was at the moment, the situation could easily repeat itself.

Besides, he absolutely didn’t feel like explaining to his mother that one more all-nighter really didn’t make a difference.

He noticed breakfast waiting for him, however, not staying under the watchful eye of the Dragon Lady, Hiccup didn’t even think of wasting his time on eating it by the table. Hardly looking at his food, he grabbed a piece of chicken and pulled the rest away. Then he left, hoping against the common reason that Toothless would find the leftovers before Valka would.

Not even a minute had passed before he was back to planning his next actions.

‘ _Alright, let’s do it in order.’_ He began. _‘Gothi didn’t get her herbs_ _in_ _time, something must be done about it, and now… Of course, it would be best if Fishlegs took care of it, only, he still has no time for it – but maybe someone else could do? Gustav…? Yeah, Gustav can make it, that’s the one thing he’ll manage to do… I only have to make sure he actually does it today. What else… Everything seems good for Sven, but Eret and I really have to check… Oh, gods...’_

He halted when he’d suddenly felt dizzy. He sensed his legs giving way, and for a short while he was certain he wouldn’t manage to stand any longer – that was how strong the intoxication was. He bent forward, resting his hands on his thighs, quietly praying to every god he could recall that it would only be a momentary weakness.

He couldn’t afford anything more serious.

Apparently, his prayers had been received and answered, because a few seconds later his giddiness was gone; so was the nausea, which had reached him almost at the same time. The Viking straightened up, breathing deeply, and after a moment he was feeling just as well as for the entire morning. That is why, even though the swift daze had surprised him, he shrugged it off at once.

And then he fell for real.

He wouldn’t have been any more surprised had he truly blacked out. Still, his senses were working more than well at the moment, allowing him to feel every single effect of his unexpected landing precisely. It was more than his back that hurt at the moment; but it was enough for the Chief to open his eyes to make his discomfort fade into obscurity.

“Toothless!” he cried out, jumping to his feet. “Here you are, Bud! You have no idea how happy I am – No, no, wait, you know it doesn’t -”

The big pink tongue ran over his face.

“-wash out.”

Toothless purred in delight, poking his rider and hopping around him. Hiccup smiled in a manner people sometimes do at children, with an air of condescending sympathy full of understanding. He shook his head and scratched his mount on the neck.

“You never weary, do you? Sometimes I really envy you that,” he commented. “But I think I owe you an apology. You were right from the start, and not only did I refuse to listen, but even managed to scold you. So, I’m sorry. However, I really need to get to the Academy now, and I won’t lie, I could really use your help.”

The dragon grunted in response and motioned his head in a slightly different direction. Hiccup acknowledged it calmly.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go wherever you want; but I need to meet a few people first, Eret most of all...”

His friend shook his black head and waved it in the exact same way as a moment earlier.

“Wait, you think he’s not there? Where then?”

At this point, he finally realised whose house Toothless had been pointing at and slouched – literally – overwhelmed by the vision of the meeting that suddenly loomed before him.

Involuntarily, he sent the dragon a most sceptical glare.

“As you wish; but it won’t be a pleasant visit.” He mumbled, discontented, mounting on a saddle. There was only one thought echoing in his mind.

It could have been such a pleasant day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7  
There was Heather on his mind**

_I ain’t no angel, I never was_   
_But I never hurt you, it’s not my fault_   
_You see those eggs shells, they’re broken up_   
_A million pieces, strewn out across the ground_

* * *

There were way more people hovering around the Twins’ house than what could have been expected.

Most of them behaved as if nothing had happened – the Vikings were strolling in the neighbourhood, trying to look completely uninterested, having more than a few explanations for their presence, yet still unable to refrain from giving furtive glances, cast on the Thorston family hut in the passing. The others did their best to stay out of the way; they silently watched the wooden building, neither looking for excuses nor trying to get closer to its wall, only inwardly wondering what course this entire business would take.

There were also those, who just offhandedly approached the door, where they – firmly held back by Snotlout, who was keeping guard at the entrance – demanded clarification. And the less they knew about the real reasons of the confusion going on around them, the louder they pressed on him to get it.

With an undoubted astonishment, Hiccup was glaring at the scene, having landed quite far from his friends’ dwelling. Eventually, he hopped off the saddle and nodded at Toothless, who happily followed him. As they were getting near to their target, the whispers around them grew in strength.

“It’s Hiccup!” someone wondered.

“So something _has_ happened after all...” somebody else remarked.

“Maybe he’ll tell us more?”

“Why does Snotlout refuse to let anyone in?”

“I’ve heard Sven saying…”

_Dang._

Bright violet light flashed when Toothless let out a single plasma blast and made it fly into the sky. The effect was immediate.

“Okay, Bud, that’s enough,” his Rider mumbled, patting him on the neck, and with a more resonant tone, he added, “Alright everyone, that would be all for today. I don’t know what brought so many of you here, but it’s a high time to terminate this gathering. Let the Thorstons live.”

And waiting no longer, he set off towards the entry, reaching the threshold with some difficulty. He was greeted by an exhausted sigh, coming from Snotlout.

“Oh, _finally,_ ” the Viking moaned, leaning on the door frame. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been standing here?”

“Absolutely none,” his Chief answered, turning back and gazing meaningfully at the onlookers who had remained at the place. Some of them were still putting their departure off, however, seeing the man’s resolute glare, they decided to carry out his order.

“Ha, ha. Here we go again,” Snotlout muttered mockingly. “Seriously, Hiccup, that sarcasm of yours won’t impress anyone.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to live with that.”

“And you’re doing it again. Okay, so are you coming in, or are you waiting for a special invitation?”

“And you say my sarcasm won’t impress?”

“On Odin’s beard, just get in there!”

The young leader rolled his eyes, amused. He rested his hand on the handle fitted to the door.

“You stay here, Toothless. Be quiet and don’t go anywhere… Oh, no, don’t give me that look, you know that I won’t let you in there now.”

Avoiding the Night Fury’s pleading gaze, the man opened the door ajar, and almost noiselessly, he slipped inside.

Those who were settled inside didn’t even notice his arrival.

Without much thinking, he briskly moved closer to one of the wide posts that were supporting the ceiling, and took his place behind it. Thus covered, he was still able to observe the situation in the centre of the room, not revealing his presence in the process. Had he thought about for a little while at least, he probably would have found his behaviour rather immature – unfortunately, he had other things to worry about at the moment.

Here he was, staying in the house which he’d so eagerly left just a few hours earlier; and even though he’d been doing everything in his power not to analyse the previous night’s events, he couldn’t have not felt guilty of his behaviour then. At the same time, he had this awful feeling that no matter what, he would end up saying something outstandingly improper – he could’ve prepared an entire speech, and yet, there wouldn’t be much benefit from doing it.

He sighed. Last night, he had told them they would come back to their conversation when they would all be calmer.

Unluckily for them all, Hiccup’s blood was still boiling just as much as it was then.

“Well, well, look who’s decided to visit,” Ruffnut’s sharp voice resonated right behind him, almost making him jump; he put a finger to his lips, ordering her to stay silent.

“Stop shouting,” he drawled through his gritted teeth. “There’s no need for that.”

“And there’s no need for your standing here,” the warrior retorted. “Are you hiding?”

“What? No, of course not,” the man denied firmly, offended by the very suspicion. “I just didn’t want to come in like a… What, what is it? You think that’s funny?”

“Sure not.”

A derisive smile tugging on his interlocutor’s lips was a proof of something completely opposite though; it widened when Hiccup rolled his eyes again, annoyed.

“Okay, listen,” he began, trying to bring her back to reality, hoping to get to the point as soon as possible. “How did -”

“No, but really, why are you standing here?” The girl interrupted, as if she’d made it her personal goal to taunt him. “It’s nicer by the bed – brighter, warmer...”

“I’m perfectly aware of that.” The dark-haired boy harnessed all of his will not to let Ruffnut get his goat. “Now please, be serious. Where did that crowd in front of your house come from?”

Ruffnut shrugged.

“You don’t know or just don’t care?”

“I don’t know.”

“And don’t you have any suspicions?”

“Nope.”

“Have you told anyone she’s here?”

“Who? You mean, the girl?”

“No, Viggo Grimbourn. Of course I mean the girl! Who else is it all about?”

“Geez.” Now it was Ruff’s turn to roll her eyes. “Why are you so tense? I haven’t told anything to anyone, since yesterday I haven’t been farther than the stables. Tuff was out, ask _him_.”

Hiccup didn’t answer immediately, sinking in his own thoughts for a while, and wondering if the news really could have spread on the island so fast – and how true was the actual gossip.

“When was it exactly that Tuffnut left?” He turned to the girl a moment later.

“Sometime in the morning. Barf and Belch wouldn’t move an inch for the whole night, so he went to drag them away some hours after the dawn.” For the first time that morning, she hesitated; “And now, when he was gathering all those people, he was running there and back again for an hour at least...”

“What people?” Hiccup asked without thinking, and only the astonished look Ruffnut gave him made him realise that while coming into the house he had missed something incredibly important.

When he had been crossing the threshold, his attention had immediately been caught by a post next to which they were standing now; he hadn’t even glanced at the central part of the room. Having heard the last of the fair-haired girl’s comments, he leaned out from his covering, and transfixed. Until that moment he’d heard nothing – now his ears were approached by the ordinary chatting which previously he had unconsciously, but effectively, ignored.

With a quick glance, he scanned the room and his friends settled in it. Fishlegs, Tuffnut, Eret…

“Hold on a second,” he started, amazed all of a sudden. “What are Barf and Belch doing by the bed?!”

“Calm, down, will ya?” the warrior silenced him. “Everything’s fine. I know you wanted them to stay outside, but you know what the dragons are. You can’t -”

“Keep them in line?” her Chief ask spitefully.

“Not always, if only they have a little will of their own,” the girl got even. “Besides, it’s all under control, so what is this fuss about? Loosen up, man, or we will all go mad.”

As if to confirm their owner’s words, the two-headed dragon purred in delight. The man took a closer look at the scene: the animal was lying on the floor behind the bed’s head, stretching its long necks along the furniture, breathing calmly – the strange girl was sitting in between, her feet rested on the ground. On each of her sides there was a pair of big, dragon eyes staring at her.

Hiccup understood it was his time to join the rest of the group, no matter how much out of place he was feeling at the moment.

This kind of anxiety on his side didn’t forecast any good.

He only had a few seconds to think it all through, but he did manage to recall one thought, one event which might help him play his cards in a way that would make him appear a bit more friendly – or less disagreeable, at least – in their guest’s eyes. Last night, in his silly joke he had mentioned Heather – now that memory was meant to help him go back to his forgotten courtesy. To what he had been six years back.

He inhaled deeply and finally, he set off in the direction of the gathering. There was no need to mark out his presence this time – it was enough for him to step out of a shadow and all the faces, one by one, turned towards him. Only the dark-haired girl still seemed too busy with the creature lying by her feet but this was something the young Chief missed himself. As long as he could, he avoided looking at her, fixing his sight at his old companions instead. He smiled weakly to greet them, lost in thoughts of his own memory. When he eventually reached the hearth, there was only one picture looming in his mind – an image of Heather, scared, unsure, fearing to trust the people who wanted nothing but to save her.

And then he experienced the first of many disappointments.

When the stranger finally raised her eyes, there was not even a trace of that fright, which he saw in his friend’s face all those years ago; even the agitation, so sharply written across the girl’s features only a night before, suddenly seemed to be a momentary anomaly, a weakness which gone, had left no sign of itself. That morning she was looking at him with certainty and joy, as if she hadn’t even remembered the last night events. She said nothing, though, allowing him to fulfil his duties properly.

“Good day,” Hiccup gasped out, once more surprised and embarrassed at the same time. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything more.

“And the same to you,” she answered with a smile, and by doing so, she tripped him up even more. “Hey, easy!”

She broke into laughter when Belch rapidly snuggled his green head into her torso, tickling her quite effectively. At the same point Barf drew closer to her from the other side and gifted her with something that, treated with the appropriate amount of good will, could have been taken for an unusually soppy dragon kiss. The brunette hopped off the bed, completely taken aback, however, even that couldn’t make her smile die down. She moved away, clearly entertained and as she did, the house resonated with a joyful murmur coming from the other Riders.

‘ _You should know that it doesn’t wash out...’_ Hiccup thought at once, being the only one who didn’t laugh at the sight. Only a weak, slightly ironic smile seemed to be almost accidentally appearing on his concentrated face.

Taking advantage of the fact that the overall attention had turned on somebody else, he decided to give the young woman more attentive glare. He’d already had a great opportunity of examining her expressive, green eyes, and yet, remembering all that followed that observation, he was far from desiring to repeat it; it more that contented him to see that her own gaze was fixed on someone exactly opposite to himself.

He gave a quick glance at the young woman’s haircut. He found nothing extraordinary about it, although, he might have been surprised by her hair’s length – cut a little beneath her ears, composed freely over her neck, it was quite in contrast with the Berkian canon of beauty. Even the hardest, most experienced in the fight, their women would never even consider getting rid of their luxurious locks; Ruffnut, who had done it once, let it happen only because of the very special circumstances, and then she made sure to come back to the natural state as soon as possible.

Having no reason whatsoever, Hiccup assumed that in their guest’s case the reason had to be much less noble, and let his scepticism grow even more.

Having arrived to such a conclusion, he shifted his gaze to her dress – or something what had probably been a dress once. That second glare was noticed by the girl, who, as if ashamed, immediately focused on the same thing.

“Oh, right. Perhaps not the best attire for the first presentation.” She smiled (this time it was almost apologising), simultaneously taking a good look at her clothes.

She wasn’t surprised by the sight; much earlier she had noticed that her dress, once green, was now covered with stains, dirty from dust and sea sand. Here and there the material had been discoloured, affected by the salty see of the ocean, gaining an extremely ugly, livid hue. Both the sleeves and the lower part of her skirt were frayed, to this extent, that the rips on the latter almost reached her knees. All of this she had already seen – but back then nobody seemed to pay any attention to how she was dressed; now however she had to survive the critical judgement of the Chief, who for some reasons seemed to be less and less favourable.

“I didn’t mean to offend anyone,” she added in a firmer tone, seeing his displeased expression. Despite her obvious uncertainty, her wounded pride was beginning to rise, and her finality was the first sign of it.

Hiccup’s vigilance grew significantly.

“I don’t think anybody has been suggesting that,” he answered coldly, confounded by her sudden boldness. “It’s not my habit to judge people so hastily.”

The girl’s look expressed prominently how much she doubted those words to be true, as if she wanted to say, _“Oh, really? So I’m the only one deserving this special treatment?”_ She remained silent though, doing nothing except staring at his bright, joyless eyes; but she abandoned that as well, turning her head aside shortly after, and transfixing her sight on a random spot nearby.

Silence fell around them. The young Chief didn’t look away, eyeing his interlocutor carefully, failing to understand how in the course of those few short hours she was able to gain so much confidence. Last night, he had been struck with the straightforwardness and sincerity of her gaze; now he found a strange haughtiness in it, which, by the way, he didn’t like any better. It wasn’t Heather, gratefully regarding them as her rescuers – with the two-headed dragon behind her back, this girl looked as if she was feeling herself at home.

‘ _This is almost insolent.’_

The silence continued. Casual and content at first, the Dragon Riders became to feel the anxiety which only grew as the time went by.

Not wanting to let another skirmish happen, Tuffnut stood out from the row, and taking his place by their guest’s side, he threw in: “So, if you two said hello, I guess we can get to the point. In the morning, when you were not here, we’ve discussed that name thing. All of us.”

“All except me?” Hiccup bridled.

“Relax, H. What’s with that guy?” Tuffnut rolled his eyes. “Only some proposition, no reason to get tense.”

“Random propositions of what?”

“The name,” Eret interrupted, hoping to explain the situation better, than his blonde friend. “You do remember we don’t know it?”

“Of course I do. Better than I would wish to,” the Chief responded, now ignoring the presence of the young woman, situated only a few steps from him; she still wasn’t looking at him.

Eret went on. “So, nothing has changed. But Ruff and Tuff were right to say that we can’t leave it like that.”

“I know that myself. I need particulars.”

“We have those, too, and more than a few. You just need to listen to them first.”

“I’m all ears.”

The former dragon trapper sighed, tired with his leader’s behaviour as much as everybody else. He nodded at Fishlegs, who carried on with the explanation from that point.

“The thing is, we must give our guest a new name – you know, temporarily, until she remembers her own. She’s already agreed to that.” Saying so, the thickset Viking gave the girl an empathetic smile, which she eagerly returned. “We’ve begun considering some options, but it may as well be just the beginning.”

“So, you have a list or something?”

“Kind of.”

“A long one?”

“Depends on how you look at it. Objectively? Quite long.”

“And… not objectively?”

“ _Not objectively_ , the Twins have their own proposal, and they won’t give up on it easily,” Fishlegs lowered his voice, hoping that Tuffnut, standing in the distance, wouldn’t hear him. “So there are our ideas, there’s theirs and there are the variations of the latter.”

Pretending not to care, Hiccup peeked at the girl standing in front of him. Even though there still was pride in her attitude, she no longer seemed to be equally sure of her own strength, as if the few minutes of struggling dashed her sudden zeal.

Unexpectedly, the young Chief felt some sort of pity – or at least he felt enough to quit the lingering and say, “Alright, let’s hear what you’ve got.”

Fishlegs pulled out a furled parchment; he unrolled it, and cleared his throat, hoping to catch the attention of all of the people gathered around him. Indeed, the surrounding quietened, and all of a sudden the room was filled with silence, full of excitement, yet undisturbed by neither the Twins or their dragon, lazily sprawling on the wooden floor. Still, the man’s success wasn’t as absolute as it may have seemed.

Even before he begun to enumerate the ideas collected during the preceding, he’d lost the focus of the two listeners who should take the greatest interest in his reading. As soon as the first sounds escaped the Viking’s mouth, the thoughts of both his Chief and the mysterious woman standing in front of him took a very different course.

At this point, we should take notice that the girl’s fault was incomparably lesser, and her own distractioncould have been easily justified. She had already had a chance to listen to her hosts’ discussion, which had taken place in her temporary home just that morning. She had also listened carefully to Berk’s Supreme Chronicler when he’d finished writing down all the names suggested by the others. And last but not least, she had made up her made about the situation long time ago, determined to hold onto her first declaration – it was not for her to decide about the final result of the discussion. Quite the opposite, she was ready to accept any of the proposed names at once.

The almost twenty-two year old Chief staying nearby had much less to say in his defence, however, he was far from feeling any kind of qualms this time. It made no difference what name the stranger would choose – from the very beginning, and on the contrary to her, Hiccup had thought that the girl herself should be the one to make the decision. If she wanted to ask for Ruffnut’s, Eret’s or anybody else’s advice, she was free to do so; but _he_ was not going to interfere.

Thus, instead of paying attention to Fishlegs, who was in fact re-reading his list only because Hiccup had not heard it yet, he once again shifted his gaze on the said woman, not fully realising how intensively he was staring at her.

And she was just there, motionless and superior, her eyes fixed on the fair-haired man before her. One could have thought she was listening carefully – however, Hiccup did not need a second to understand that her thoughts were as disengaged with the subject as his own.

Had he been able to observe her more steadily, he would have done it now. He could not miss the determination spread across her face – her wounded pride was still reminding of itself, which was notably reflecting on her raised chin and lips, drawn ever so slightly. Yet, she hadn’t even glanced at him for this entire time – the Viking was ready to bet, that she wouldn’t do it, even if her refusal meant her immediate exile from the island.

Once again, Hiccup was taken aback by this abrupt change, as it seemed abrupt to him. Coming back home after his previous visit, he’d been far from being satisfied with himself – he’d assumed that he’d acted too harshly, got angry too easily, and that all in all, his behaviour had left much to be desired. If only he allowed himself to think about that night, he was immediately hunted down by guilt; how could he have treated a person, a girl like this – a girl, who had just found help after the events that certainly couldn’t be pleasant? A girl, who was hopefully waiting for support and comfort? Scared, shy and lost?

More than once, his thoughts led him to Heather, forcing him to compare his former conduct with the present one. Every memory of her first visit made him feel ashamed, because he knew how differently he had acted this time. That was why he came there today with a firm resolution of fixing his mistakes and giving the terrified girl all the help she might need.

The thing was, he didn’t find anyone of this kind. The woman who greeted him at first was beaming with a joyful courage – then, she showed her fierce, haughty side.

He certainly had nothing to do here.

“Hiccup, are you following?”

Fishleg’s voice brutally roused him from his meditation, although this time, the Viking was almost grateful for it.

“Yeah, sure. Anything else you’ve got?”

“Nope, that’s all from us,” the Chronicler rolled up the parchment. “You have any favourites?”

The auburn-haired man focused, trying for all his might to remember the names that had accidentally reached his ears – yet, those few he could recall were so unbecoming, that Hiccup decided to keep his silence on it. He shrugged.

“Not really,” he threw in rather stiffly. “I think I can leave it up to you.”

“Seriously?”

“Why not? I think there was a few nice ideas at the beginning -”

“Hiccup! You haven’t listened to us yet!” Tuffnut cried out, waving his hands as if he didn’t believe that his shouting would be enough to catch the general attention.

Ruff accompanied him wholeheartedly, also throwing her arms in all possible directions and calling, “Yeah, Hiccup, you can’t leave us behind! Remember whose house this is! And say what you will, but it is our dragon that -”

“Okay, okay, fine!” their Chief calmed them down, simultaneously raising his sight towards the ceiling. “Nobody’s going to harm you, you can say whatever you desire to; just please, try not to offend anyone.”

“Pff, as if we wanted to do _that_!” The warrior responded with a theatrical indignation, and then appealed to the whole company. “So, on the contrary to you, my dear thoughtless mob, my brother and I are well aware of how important the right choice of a name is, especially when it comes to a person who’s character has already been formed...”

‘ _Which she most probably doesn’t remember, either,’_ Hiccup remarked maliciously. Fortunately for all of them, he only did that in his thoughts.

“…I believe you will understand what a great responsibility it is,” Tuffnut picked up with ease. “That’s why we thought it through carefully...”

“…considering many options…”

“…deciding to focus on the first feeling that had come to us while meeting our dear guest. And this, my dear friends is nothing but her great _quietness_! Thus, we say – let her name be – Whisper!”

The house was immediately filled with a sceptical muttering of the other Riders, who had never treated the Twins’ demand particularly seriously. Paying no mind to those, Tuff turned directly to his Chief, hoping that the latter would show a little more understanding for the art of naming. Hiccup didn’t seem too thrilled about it, though, and despite all of his spirit, Tuffnut was tripped up.

Noticing his friend’s brows furrowed, he stepped back, and after a moment of silence, he added in a much smaller voice, “Yeah… that is… you know, that’s not the only option. Sure not. We may think of… variations… I mean… Whispy, Whisperer, Whis...”

“Whispering Death,” Hiccup muttered.

It wasn’t an accident that he said it quietly enough not to be heard by anyone except the stranger standing right next to him; but of course, _she_ could not understand what he was referring to.

“Tuff, look,” he picked up out loud. “I can see you’re pretty much attached to this idea, but it may not be the best one. It’s important to be able to admit that, too; so I think you should give a chance to the rest of the propositions -”

“The rest of the propositions make no sense at all!” Ruffnut interrupted him fiercely, trying to defend the honour of her brother and herself. “They didn’t even think if they would suit! Those names are just random words, which they mixed just like they liked!”

“Stop yelling, Ruffnut. I know you’re angry, but that’s not a reason to raise your voice like that.”

“Are you even listening to me?!”

“Good gods, Ruff! I am, it’s just -”

“It’s just _what_?”

“It’s just -” Hiccup lowered his voice to a whisper – “it may turn out that your description won’t be that suitable, either -”

“I’ll take it.”

Their guest’s voice resonated with a new boldness – all eyes turned towards her. The girl set her gaze on the young leader’s face, letting him understand that her decision is final and irrevocable. There was no spite, no anger in her look; if anything, there was a soft trace of self-satisfaction, which she didn’t fully realise herself. But there was determination in it.

Until that moment, she couldn’t have cared less about who would choose her name, and what that name would be – seeing, however, the general attitude towards her hosts, who had been the first to gift her with their friendship, she couldn’t refrain from coming to their rescue.

She was aware of the astonishment she had caused. In the corner of her eye she saw the disbelieving, yet thankful expressions on the Twins’ faces, while the Chief standing before her looked clearly dissatisfied.

“From the beginning you’ve been telling me to choose that name, and when I’m doing it, you’re looking at me as if you saw a ghost,” she explained with a grin. “I don’t understand why this name should be any worse that the rest, and if my hosts want it so much -” She gave the siblings another smile - “Then I’ll be most glad to follow their wish and take it. You may treat it as a poor sign of my gratitude.”

“Yes!” Tuffnut cried triumphantly. “But, which one exactly?”

“Whichever you like. It’s up to you two.”

Having exclaimed that, she finally turned towards Hiccup and gave him a glare, which clearly expressed the silent question: _“So? How much I’ve lost in your eyes because of this little excess?”_

Hiccup ignored that glare.

“So the matter is resolved,” he summed up coldly. “I think I may leave you now. Please, enjoy coming up with the new versions; if you don’t mind, I’ll stay with the simplest one and assume your name is _Whisp_. As long as you don’t decide on the final one, that is.”

“Of course,” the girl answered calmly; the tone in which he spoke her new name made it sound like an insult. She refrained from commenting it, though – after all, it was possible her assumption was wrong.

“Perfect.”

This moment exactly, Belch raised his head highly and roared enthusiastically, as if wanting to celebrate the end of the unpleasant meeting. The whole group laughed with relief.

The next thing they heard was the slam of the door, closed vehemently. Hiccup was no longer in the room.

His friends exchanged meaningful glances, however, none of them said a word.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8  
So what happened, Hiccup?**

_There's gotta be more_ _  
_ _I know there's more, there's always more_ _  
_ _I'm gonna break through, and find something new_ _  
_ _I'm gonna find more_

* * *

It had been a dozen or so days since the great council had taken place, during which time the inhabitants of Berk had been officially informed about the reason of the previous stir; and as it usually happens in such cases, their community had soon been divided into a few smaller groups.

Those of them, who vocally claimed that it was exactly what they had been expecting from the beginning, surely formed the largest of the parties. The other group, almost as big as the first, made a stand that was in fact quite the opposite, that is, they sincerely acknowledged their own bewilderment, not only enjoying their astonishment, but almost taking pride in it.

The rest of the Vikings shrugged their shoulders, and took all of the events as pure facts that could not be helped anyway – although even that group wasn’t entirely free from a certain amount of curiosity.

Regardless of the individual reactions, however, the new guest had been welcomed with general friendliness – almost enthusiastically, one could say – being offered all kinds of help the people of Berk could provide. Their endeavours were always answered with the same genuine words of gratitude, and yet, every time the response was followed by the assurance that the newcomer really didn’t need anything more than what she’d already had. Thus, the Vikings left her with a smile and went back to their daily occupations, almost immediately forgetting about the dark-haired girl staying on their island.

The name of Whisper, as bizarre as it may have seemed, was widely accepted with no further controversy.

The circle that had taken care of her at first hadn’t ceased to show interest in her case. It was mutually resolved that, at least for the time being, the girl would stay at the Twins’ house – and that had been caused by the trivial facts, that first, there was no chance Whisper could get a household of her own at the moment, and second – that Ruffnut was the only young woman acquainted with her.

Leaving the girl to stay at her house (even if it meant staying with her brother as well) appeared to be the most natural solution.

And most importantly – it had been decided that the subject of Whisper’s past and her memory about it should have no impact on their behaviour towards her. It was a problem which they could not solve, no matter how hard they would try, so instead of pondering about it, they harmoniously agreed that there was no point in worrying about it in advance.

“What will be, will be,” Eret summed up once, trying, as always, to be the voice of reason amongst his agitated friends. “Sooner or later, you will start to remember things, and it should carry on from there. Our thinking won’t do much good in this case.”

And thus life on Berk took its own, long settled course, and only the scattering of friends seemed to notice that right then and there they had been given a chance to gain a new, joyful aspect of their lives. Still though, there was no one on the island who would as much as think of showing any kind of hostility towards its new inhabitant.

Almost no one.

It would be great to be free to say that the young Chief, the only person who remained uncharitable in his relations with Whisper, could not _,_ despite his utmost effort, change his attitude towards her. The misfortune, however, wasn’t caused by his inability to overcome his own prejudice, but by the complete lack of trying to do so. His first – and especially, second – encounter with her had left such a distinct trace on his memory that it made the Viking abandon all of his plans of forming a relationship that would be at least a little less cool.

He didn’t have to worry about her maintenance or mood, as those duties had been wholeheartedly fulfilled by his friends; he didn’t see a reason for which she should've cared for his special attention, either. All of the above, combined with the amount of concerns already weighing on his shoulders, made him capable of doing one thing, and one thing only – of stubbornly ignoring every single thought of her.

‘ _Oh, she may live on Berk, alright,’_ he kept debating inwardly. _‘She may even think she’s one of us. She may laugh, cry, show us all how proud she is – I don’t care. I can meet her right now, and I won’t lose my temper this time. Never again.’_

Thinking that, he subconsciously chose such places and such times of days that made his meeting with the new acquaintance least likely to occur; and he got vexed every time when it turned out he had chosen wrong. He visited the Academy – she appeared there minutes later, looking for Ruffnut; he dropped in on Gobber’s workshop – and she was sitting in the very middle of it, discussing with the blacksmith like if it was nothing.

The worst thing of all was how she tended to behave during those encounters. Once, twice perhaps, she seemed to be confused by the sight of him, however, most of the times she spoke, laughed or even move so naturally, that he couldn’t treat those situations as anything but an unfortunate coincidence.

Maybe if he could have assumed that Whisper got in his way out of pure malice, or if he had at least known that she found his company as disturbing as he found hers – maybe that would have made him feel better.

Yet, while he was resolutely resolving not to show any sort of feelings, she simply was indifferent – perfectly indifferent. And that was the kind of disregard he could not tolerate.

Still, the young Chief might have managed to swallow all of this as well, attaining this sort of coldness he currently desired, if it wasn’t for one thought he couldn’t get rid of. Namely, he had a completely unjustified feeling that the green-eyed girl would be trying – consciously or not – to take a glimpse into that part of his lifewhich he was so determined to protect; and the more noble her intentions would be, the worse for them both.

His fear grew significantly during one of their accidental meetings.

It was one of those peculiarly difficult days when everything he touched turned on him. The quarrels he was trying to ease, exacerbated; the corrections he made turned out to be less accurate than the original ideas; even flying wasn’t something he was able, or willing, to do.

Besides, there was Astrid.

Most of the time, if only he forced a proper rhythm and amount of work upon himself, he managed to go on just fine. When he was left alone with his thoughts, he suffered miserably – but usually a bit of finality was enough to pull him together, and make him focus on the present task. However, there were moments in which he couldn’t even do that much. It was particularly likely to happen on those ill-fated, doomed-to-failure days.

That morning he had just got involved in an exceptionally spirited raw with Snotlout, who just this once had to be right. What really mattered, however, was that during their discussion the short Viking adduced Astrid’s very words, thus, he did something he should never, ever dare to do.

Hiccup’s reaction was immediate and obvious. He cut the conversation off in the middle, gave more orders, turned on his heel and left. Then, as if against all the odds, he didn’t get back to work, but having mounted Toothless, he headed to the place where their friendship had started.

What was his astonishment, what anger and grudge filled his heart when he spotted that right next to the Cove’s wall was Whisper, accompanied by the Twins, happily playing the role of her guides. It didn’t matter that even unaware of his presence, she clearly didn’t feel comfortable, nor did matter her suggestions to leave the place at once.

At that very moment Hiccup didn’t even remember that the said trio had evidently ignored his previous prescription to stay in the close proximity to the village.

The only thing he cared for was the fact that the dark-haired woman was staying at the place in which she never should have appeared.

At the worst time possible.

* * *

Whisper would have to be blind not to see the growing dislike with which the young leader treated her.

The coldness he’d been demonstrating could not leave her unaffected, for as much as she was ready to accept his indifference (she had no reason to expect anything more than that from him), his obvious disregard for her, bordering on an entirely groundless contempt, was something she was still unable to understand. Despite her great endeavours, she couldn’t gather what in her personality offended him so much; yet, that didn’t make her feel even a little bit better.

Many times did she analyse her own behaviour during the early days of her stay on Berk, paying particular attention to the first two meetings. She had no doubts that it was during those encounters, when the Viking had adopted such an unfavourable opinion of her, however, _why_ he had done that was something she didn’t, and couldn’t know.

“Lost in thoughts all day long, huh?” a rather high, male voice roused her from her meditation. “Soon you’ll forget where you are completely.”

“It is most fortunate, then, that I do have you, _Captain_ ,” she smiled teasingly, and winked at her interlocutor. The dark-haired boy standing nearby beamed, and rolled his eyes.

“You won’t give it a rest, will you? Alright, Your Highness, Captain Gustav is at your service.”

It was her who rolled her eyes now, chuckling quietly at the sight of the boy’s low bow. She shook her head in disbelief.

“I think that instead of bowing before me, you’d better put a few of those logs into the furnace. Gobber will be back in a moment and you’ll get in trouble again.”

The Viking shrugged and, whistling, he approached the place where the fuel was held. Whisper followed him with her gaze, just as she had done every other time.

Gustav was a slender young man, not too tall, but not especially short either. Vigorous and curious, he was one of those very few people from outside the Dragon Academy’s main command who had gifted the girl with something more than just a fleeting interest.

Just as he’d been presented to her, he introduced himself under the name of _Captain Gustav_ , putting a great emphasis on the title he owned – which soon enough was used against him. In the playful bantering that became their habit shortly after, Whisper constantly appealed him using the rank that had been given to him; he, on his part kept coming up with new various royal names for her.

She hadn’t had a chance to ask about his age, but his general appearance and behaviour made her estimate him at nineteen, twenty years; no more. She also believed that Tuffnut’s statement about Gustav being _the least tolerable kid on the island_ was more than unfair towards the young man.

“Your order has been carried out, Your Mercifulness. Any other suggestions?”

“None, except that you would follow the plan.”

“Ah, the plan. How boring.” Gustav leaned against a moving rack, and assuming a nonchalant expression. “Plans are for small, narrow minds that cannot… Woah!”

“Look out!” she cried a second too late. A shelf, installed on a large wheel, lowered under the boy’s weigh, and the whole, unsecured mechanism went into action. Having lost his balance, Gustav fell on his face, while tools and brushes slid off the pegs that had been moved too quickly. One of them landed right next tot the Viking’s head, miraculously doing him no harm.

“I left you alone for fifteen minutes, and the forge is crumbling down already!” The blacksmith’s sharp voice resonated in the air, accompanied by the characteristic thud of his wooden prosthetic. “For my old grandmother’s sake, Gustav, I swear that if only I could hire someone else here, you would’ve been fired on your very first day!”

“I told you he would be back soon,” Whisper muttered with a smile, reaching her hand in the direction of the bruised apprentice. “Those accidents of yours draw him like a magnet.”

“Oh, really?” The boy willingly accepted the help she had offered, and quickly rose to his feet. “I was sure it’s my own undeniable charm.”

“If I’d been doing such a mischief when I was your age, I wouldn’t have seen dinner for a week! Odin’s beard, what is it those kids have in their heads these days. Just wait until I -”

He stopped at that point, having at last arrived at the crime scene. He had clearly been intending to make some caustic remark in accordance to it, however, as if out of spite, he could not find a necessary baseline – during the time he had needed to approach the said shelves Gustav (together with his companion) had managed to bring the workshop to a better state than the one from before the unfortunate incident. They stood arm to arm now, right next to the furnace, as if they were partners, assuming the most innocent looks they could muster.

Gobber saw right through them.

“Alright, kids, what have you done this time?”

“Us? Nothing, absolutely. Everything is under control, _Sir_ ,” the apprentice answered without a second thought. “It’s all good in the Archipelahood.”

“Oh yes, I bet it is. Have you brought the fuel inside?”

“Yes, Sir!”

“And sharpened the daggers?”

“All of them!”

“And have you cleaned the saddles for tomorrow’s race?”

“Yes… that is… I mean...”

“Well, then off to it, before I decide to make you tidy Grump’s stable again! Now!” Gobber slammed his right hand against the hook that replaced his left forearm, as if trying to clap. Gustav obviously desired to respond, yet, unable to come up with anything witty enough, he set off in the suggested direction without uttering another word.

Whisper sat down on her former place close to the hearth, and fixed her sight on the blacksmith.

“I thought you had a bit more reason in you than he does,” the man addressed her after a while; he wanted to sound at least a little harsh, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not give his voice a tone of a real reproach. The brunette girl was perfectly aware of that.

“You hadn’t mentioned the saddles before, had you?” she asked, knowing well what the answer would be.

“Sure not,” Gobber said. “Why would I?”

“Well, you sounded as if you had. I think he got a little scared.”

“I did not!” They were answered by a distant calling of Gustav, who had heard nothing except for the last sentence. “I fell down, there’s no big deal about that!”

“He leaned on a shelf, and lost his balance right before you came,” Whisper hurried to explain, noticing the confused expression in her older friend’s eyes; she was now speaking with a distinctively lowered voice. “He lurched, fell down, and… knocked a few things. This is what you heard a moment ago.”

“Good Thor. And I thought Hiccup was difficult.”

Whisper was just about to ask what he was referring to, when Gustav suddenly appeared in their little circle. She hardly managed to open her mouth, while he was in the middle of his own speech himself.

“I still wonder if I live to see an hour when I won’t be compared to our most beloved Chief. You see, Princess, I’ve been stuck here for more than a year now, and there wasn’t a day on which Gobber would not remember the good old times, during which he didn’t have to care about my presence.”

“Your presence had been pestering us long before you started to work here,” the thickset Viking interrupted him mercilessly. “Although back then I could at least pretend I didn’t see you at all.”

“I am moved to see your attachment, my dear teacher.” At this point, the boy winked at his younger friend, and sighed. “I am, however, afraid that we must part for the time being. Mrs Hofferson’s saddle will fall to pieces if I don’t repair the seams on its right side, and there are no suitable threads left to use. So, Master, with your agreement, and by the courtesy Her Generosity, I will run to my house, and bring my own supply. But shed no tears, I will be back, and soon -”

“In the name of Freya, stop talking, and just go!” Gobber cried out. “The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll come back, and we still have loads of work ahead of us. What’s with that kid,” he added, when the boy had eventually disappeared from the workshop, mumbling pretensions nobody could understand.

Whisper chuckled again, as subtly as the last time. She was sitting on a bench right next to the furnace, with her legs pulled to her chest and embraced with her fair, slim arms. She rested her chin on her knees, not taking her eyes off the Viking.

“Fine, fine. What is it now?” the latter asked, seeing the sparks in the girl’s green irises. “Another question, aye?”

“You like him,” the young woman stated. “The more you tease him, the more obvious it is.”

“Of course I do,” Gobber admitted, replacing his hook with a smithing hammer. “He’s a good lad. And a clever one, too, even though he keeps cheeking me.”

“How long has he been working here?”

“A bit more than a year, you’ve heard for yourself. Though, he had helped me before that, too. Sometimes.”

“And… Earlier?”

“Earlier? Before Gustav came?” Gobber fell silent for a moment, while his face gained a thoughtful, almost sorrowful expression. He smiled weakly, as if he wanted to negate the impression he had just given. “Then there was Hiccup. Gods know how much I underestimated him.”

“The same way you underestimate Gustav now?” Whisper offered, grinning at him in a kind, yet rather contrary way.

“Eh, Gustav is nothing. He can sniff at my grumbling, but he knows I would never throw him out. I don’t think Hiccup had that confidence.”

The girl sitting in front of him bit her lip, shifting her gaze to the floor. The blacksmith eyed her more carefully.

“Alright. Open up.”

She winced, as if woken up from a dream. “Sorry? I didn’t -”

“I can see something is happening in that dark head of yours. Don’t deny, ask.”

“It seems like I do nothing else,” his interlocutor whispered in response, looking at him almost apologetically. “Sometimes I think that I should stop.”

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t ask. You’re in a completely new place, if you want to settle in, you must gain information! Now let _me_ repeat my question: What is it?”

“I don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“Why Hiccup had worked here in the first place. Look -” She straightened her legs with an energetic move, and rested them on the ground. “He’s a Chief, right? Moreover, he’s the Chief’s son, and the only one at that; so from the very beginning it must have been supposed that he would be the one to succeed to the throne. Shouldn’t such a man spend time on workouts and schooling? Studying maps, learning legends and history, and most of all – _training_?

“You seem to know pretty much about what an heir is expected to be doing. But, yes, that’s probably how it would have looked like – if it was Snotlout who had been preparing to be a future Chief. Although I wouldn’t expect to see much interest for maps in his case,” Gobber cackled in his own specific way, well aware of the young Jorgenson’s character. “Hiccup had always been a bit different, though. It’s enough to think of his posture and height. When he first started to help me, he was nine… no, ten years old, and he looked as if he was seven. Such a weedy boy couldn’t do much good in a fight against a dragon, and he wasn’t much help with putting out a fire, either. So, he came here.”

“But why did you say he was difficult?”

“By thunder, what a question! He wasn’t ready to fight at all, and he did all in his might to get on the battlefield. He was supposed to stay in the forge, and he kept sneaking out to search for trolls. Whatever he touched ended up in a catastrophe, and trust me, not a common one. You’ve seen those posts with domes, spread all around the island? Those domes used to be burning as another weapon against the dragons. The whole construction is bloody heavy, but you’d need a lot of strength to upset one.”

“But how is that connected at all?” Whisper managed to interrupt him eventually, having gradually lost the ability to follow the digressions interlarded by the raconteur.

“Well, fifteen year old Hiccup was capable of making such a post fuse and tumble, destroying more than one dwelling in result.”

Having said that, Gobber moved away, took a piece of iron out of the hearth where it had been heated up, and approached the anvil. The young woman, who was still occupying her place on the bench, had been left alone with her thoughts. Gobber’s story, as much as the many others she had heard during the past days, didn’t match the man she had met personally in the slightest. In the stories told by her friends the young Chief happened to be – no, he didn’t _happen to be_ , he _was_ – clumsy, absent-minded, prone to being naive, prone to trust people too easily. She, on the other hand, saw a determined, sharp-witted, strong leader, regarded by his tribe, and at the same time, almost cruel to her.

She did realise that most of those differences were caused by the changes that had happened in that man in the course of many years – he’d gained confidence, because he’d started to be respected, he’d learnt to focus, because he’d understood how much had depended on it.

And yet, not all of his features could have been explained in that way; that was what was bothering her at the moment.

Hiccup was wrong assuming that his presence made no impression on the girl he appeared to loathe so much. It was true that she sometimes didn’t pay any attention to him, it was, however, only because her thoughts had already been focused on someone else – on the Twins, for whom she was forced to look constantly; on Fishlegs, who was explaining the Academy’s intricacies to her; on Gobber, whom she was helping with gathering the fuel. The sight of him did sometimes make her escape to the safety of her own thoughts, but again, she only did that because of how uncomfortably she felt in his company.

In spite of it all, she was still trying to give him to understanding that she held no grudge against him. However, the more often and brighter she smiled, the sooner he looked away. She tried from all her might not to get him in the way, but this couldn’t work entirely well, either, unless of course she decided to spend the rest of her stay on the island locked between the four walls of the Thorston House.

‘ _And that unfortunate meeting in the forest!’_ she thought with a renewed horror. _‘How can you glare at someone with such hatred in your eyes?’_

“When they first started their Dragon Training, more than seven years ago, Hiccup provoked a Deadly Nadder so badly that the beast knocked over the entire labyrinth. Which we’d been building for hours, I may add! And all because right there, in the midst of the fight, he decided to start bombarding me with questions about Night Fury’s sleeping habits.”

She looked up at him, taken aback. Against her will, she immediately imagined the young man, running away in terror from the two-legged dragon – and, surprisingly, this time picturing it wasn’t hard at all. Also, the vision itself was so absurd that she simply had to laugh.

Gobber narrowed his eyes at her, content.

“No longer terrifying, is he?” And noticing her astonishment, he added, “Come, come, I can see something’s not right between the two of you.”

“It’s nothing,” she answered quickly, hoping to dispel the blacksmith’s suspicions. “He’s done nothing to me.”

“Except that he refuses to speak to you? What on earth is going on with that boy...”

“I’m sure he doesn’t do it on purpose. Besides, I really can’t expect him to take interest in every foundling from the coast, especially if she can’t tell a thing about herself.”

“It’s very good of you to say so, but you’re wrong. It is also a part of his duties, and I can only wonder why he’s so determined not to fulfil that one. Usually he’s conscientious beyond reason.” A characteristic hiss reverberated in the air when Gobber slid the formed piece of metal into the bucket of icy water. He pulled it out again a moment later. “As to the first one, it’s probably correct. Although I have no idea how you came up with it.”

“Let’s say I’d rather think that people don’t have bad intentions as a rule.”

She grinned wider, and he responded in kind. Then he took another white-hot bar, and carefully walked towards the other post.

Whisper followed him with her gaze, grateful for the friendship and help with which the old Viking had gifted her at the very beginning of their acquaintance. He was the second person from outside the gang, on whose long-term support she could count – and it was a meaningful support, to be sure.

Except for him and Gustav, there was one other person, a woman, who had offered her her friendship – Valka, The Dragon Lady, the widow of the late Chief, and the mother of the present. And even though she had no real influence on her son, she had – together with Gobber – a very important quality – regardless of Eret’s suggestions and orders, she did not ask unnecessary questions.

The girl almost got lost in her thoughts again, when she realised that she still couldn’t hear the anticipated sound of forged metal. She took a better look at Gobber. His recent grin had worn off, while he was standing motionlessly, eyes fixed on some unidentified spot before him. She easily gathered that while her mind was spinning like a top, lightly brushing further subjects, her unwritten guardian was still hovering over Hiccup and his attitude towards her.

And surely, he did not seem happy about it.

There was some kind of an unusual, and as it seemed, unfounded pain reflecting on his face; Whisper felt it was her turn to rouse her friend from this dangerous pensiveness. She might have even known how to do that.

“He wasn’t always like that, was he?” she hinted, glaring resolutely in his bright eyes.

Gobber emerged, and turned to look at her attentively. “No, he wasn’t.”

He smiled weakly.

Without much hesitation, Whisper resolved to go through with it.

“So there was a time when he didn’t look down on people, didn’t take offence for trifles, and talked to someone else than his dragon?”

“Alright, lass, don’t get ahead of yourself. It has never been _that_ bad,” saying this, he waved his hammer in a threatening way. “And you _do_ know that.”

His charge drew up her legs, pressing them to her torso; she snuggled her nose onto her knees, hiding a grin, but her bright, joyful eyes, still fixed on the blacksmith’s silhouette made it nothing but a vain attempt. Her little provocation had worked – and she was immensely glad about it.

Gobber was smiling just as sincerely.

“So you’re saying I’m exaggerating?”

“I’m saying you’re twisting the dragon around.”

“You said it had been better yourself.”

“But I’ve never said it is that terrible now. He has changed, only not in that way. Hiccup doesn’t look down on anyone.”

“I see.” The young woman assumed a most serious expression, as if wanting to show that Gobber had really appealed to her, and then she dead-panned, “So it’s only the matter of that horrid sarcasm?”

“You little devil,” the Viking laughed, getting back to his work. “How long are you going to keep joking like that?”

“Oh, but I’m not doing anything.”

“Mocking the poor invalid! Shame on you, lass!”

“Poor invalids don’t wave their tools like you are right now. Oh, please. Or I’ll think you don’t enjoy my company.”

“Now _this_ is blackmail,” the man muttered under his breath, and winked at her. “Ah, you know how it is. As difficult it is for me to admit it, I’ve been feeling better during those last days than I have since… than I have for a very long time.”

‘ _Does that mean you’ll answer my question?’_ She wanted to ask, but something told her it was not a suitable moment. Gobber’s face did not lose its cheerful expression, and he even began to whistle while resuming his work – but Whisper was well aware that another joke might not be taken with so much understanding.

She stood up slowly, and approached the place where the clients were usually received; she had just discovered it that day, and appreciated its advantages at once. Standing there, right next to the outer posts, she had a great view on the whole of Berk’s main square and further, enabled to see even the more distant dwellings – at the same time, it was enough to make a step back to disguise herself in the deep shadow of the craft equipment. Even though she didn’t admit it to herself just yet, Whisper was subconsciously aware of what kind of meeting would be the best reason for using her hideout.

Now, however, her focus was on something entirely different.

Because there, before her eyes, was one of the most beautiful, and simultaneously, most casual sights she could ever imagine. The afternoon sun was shining upon the yard, on which single dragons were walking lazily, left on their own. The whole place was almost resonating with that stunning silence, which Whisper couldn’t at first understand – even though she’d only had a chance to observe the square for a little more than two weeks altogether, she had already got used to its natural noises. It was always ringing out with the cries of the Vikings, shouting over one another, quarrelling and laughing together. Now there was no one, except for few children – and even they had decided to choose some quieter games that day.

She heard a call coming from the coast, and immediately followed it with her gaze. Of course, how could she forget – all of the villagers were gathered in the harbour due to the arrival of a friendly merchant. She had nothing to do there, having got nothing she could offer in exchange for his goods… beside, she had everything she needed.

Staying in the wary custody of so many people, it was enough for her to lift her finger, and the desired object would be in her hands by the end of the day. This was, of course, a privilege she hadn’t used once, accepting only the essential help, like lodging or board. The girl did her best to repay for that kindness, impatiently awaiting a situation in which she could do more than gathering dry twigs or darning a tunic.

She would obviously be pleased to have a look at the cargo of the small trading ship, which sails she could spot in the distance. Learning about this new world still gave her a lot of joy, and she was ready to bet that the newcomer could treat her with more than a few breathtaking stories – why, if she was just as aware that she would not have been admitted favourably. She was almost sure that the young Chief was greeting the guest personally, and the very vision of meeting him was enough to make the trip lose all of its charm.

The young woman admonished herself for such a statement. After all, everybody around her kept repeating that all in all, he truly was a great man.

“So what happened, Hiccup?” she whispered, forgetting that her voice might be heard by anyone else than herself. She quivered when after a moment, she was approached by Gobber’s answer.

“You really don’t know?”

She turned back abruptly, and saw the blacksmith glare steadily at her. She shook her head in denial. The man sighed, put the axe he’d been holding away, and unhurriedly limped towards her.

“Have you ever heard anything about Astrid Hofferson?” he asked, carefully delivering every word. “Anything at all?”

“No, I don’t… No. Although -” she hesitated. “I think Tuffnut mentioned her once. But he was on the ground a second after, floored by Ruff. I assumed it was better not to dwell on the topic.”

“Good gods, how did it come to this,” Gobber murmured, and she was sure she’d heard a crack in his voice. “They don’t talk about Astrid! A little while ago there wasn’t a day when that girl wasn’t mentioned!”

Whisper compressed her lips, thinking, and very carefully, she asked, “Who is… Who is Astrid?”

Her question remained unanswered for a while. She wasn’t sure if she should have asked it, so even as she was pronouncing it, her voice was vibrating with hesitation; she only dared to do it because she remembered that it was Gobber who had touched on the subject first. He was now standing nearby, not looking at her, as if trying to choose the right words.

And then he simply said, “Was, kid, was. That’s the trouble.” He looked at her with his sad, serious glare. “It’s too long of a story to tell it now, and besides, it’s not for me to do it. Listen to what people are saying, and you should find out for yourself.”

Whisper nodded, even though the blacksmith’s answer explained absolutely nothing, causing more doubts instead. Yet, she was not going to pry on him; apparently, it was too early for her to know the details of that part of the story.

All right, then – she would wait. In the meantime…

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked, hoping to draw his attention from the clearly painful memories. “Do you have enough wood?”

“Aren’t you tired?” the man blinked, surprised.

“I am as tough as a Gronckle,” she answered haughtily, resting her hands on her hips, and assuming a dashing look. Gobber chuckled quietly.

“And you catch other people’s sayings extremely easily. But I have no work for you anyway.”

“Pity.”

“You know you don’t have to do all this, right?”

“Maybe not, but I’d like to know I can be of some use to you.”

“Oh, you’ll be a great use to us for sure. The whole island came alive only because you’d appeared. And you know what -” She felt his strong, heavy hand on her shoulder. “Something tells me you will change much more more than that. And Thor strike me, if Hiccup doesn’t see that, too.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 9  
I don’t trust her**

_Sometimes, the tears we cry_   
_Are more than any heart can take_   
_We hurt, just keep it inside_   
_Small wonder that it starts to break_

* * *

A splash of water came floating around the cove with an echo when another stone had hit the smooth surface of a small pond.

“I am _not_ overreacting.” The young Chief reached out for another rocky shard, and flung it with agitation into the very middle of the lake, in the same way  he’d been doing  it for the last ten minutes at least. Tired, Toothless murmured, and – not even glancing at his Rider – he shifted his body in a more comfortable position.

It really was becoming annoying.

“And I’m not prejudiced,” Hiccup continued, deaf to his dragon friend’s non-verbal comments. “Why, because I don’t begin every single day  paying her my respects? I’m rushed off my feet with all that is to be done here, and they’re surprised I don’t spend my time chatting with a girl with whom I have nothing to do, except for  temporarily living on the same big island! I’m starting to think that she isn’t the only one affected by that storm, because all of the gang act as if something heavy had fallen on their heads. Good gods, what have I done to deserve _this_?”

With even more energy, he took another swing, shoving the next stone into the air. “Did I make sure she would get a place to stay at? Yes. Did I appoint people responsible for her feeding? Yes. Am I forbidding anyone to hang out with her? No! So what do they want from me, to personally check on her every hour, making sure she’s all right? Dear Odin, I didn’t have half of that time for Astrid!”

This time, Toothless decided to open his eyes, however, it seemed like he only did that to be able to roll them. He rose his head slightly, and fixed his sight on the back of the man who stood a dozen or so steps away from him, wondering for how much longer he would be forced to listen to that meaningless, wrathful blabbing.

It wasn’t, of course, the first time Hiccup had acted that way, admitting to his companion – and to himself – all of the feelings that swirled in his exhausted, wounded heart. As long as the Viking was showing the pain that was inextricably bound with every memory of Astrid, Toothless pitied him, ready to do whatever it takes, if only it could help his anguished friend a little.

Now however, listening to the young man’s moaning, which only grew stronger with time, couldn’t make him feel anything but anger – at this point he very much desired to approach Hiccup, and whack his tail against that empty, stubborn head of his; or better yet, push him down right into the icy depths, above which he was leaning.

Maybe _that_ would calm him down a bit.

The sound of splattered water made the dragon realise that the young Chief’s whining wasn’t going to end any time soon. He snorted.

“Besides, the whole island is at her service, no matter if she herself wants it or not. It was enough for her to smile to convince Gobber to retreat in that nasty quarrel between him and Spitelout. Gobber! Of all stubborn, cranky, getting-his-own-way people, he was the one to yield under her request. Thor, Heather could learn from her!” Hiccup was definitely winding up, and even though he was to some extent aware of it, he couldn’t be more far from refraining from the spiteful comments that were springing onto his lips.

He felt that if he didn’t speak out now, when he would be heard by nobody except the bored Night Fury, there would come a moment when his patience would reach its limit, and force him to share his opinion with the first person he met; and whoever that person would be, they would most likely be much more affectionate towards the dark-haired girl, than him.

It was quite possible for him to do it in the presence of Whisper herself.

Toothless, on the other hand, even if not agreeing with his friend’s ideas, did not contradict them with his own. He didn’t voice them anyway.

“What, that I envy her the attention she gets?!” Hiccup suddenly cried out, making his companion wonder who on earth Hiccup was answering. “I don’t need their interest, I’ll do just fine without it. I’ve got used to the people on this island never giving a care for what they should, constantly poking their noses into others’ business instead. Maybe they will at least give it a rest, and stop bombarding me with those stupid hints of theirs, which in most cases, I really couldn’t need less. It’s really not what it’s about.”

Another pebble crashed against the shining water mirror. And another. And one more.

“The thing is, I don’t trust her. Just think of it, Bud. She appears on a beach, with no one knowing when and how; there’s no trace of anything that could be a ship, neither on the island nor anywhere close to it; she can’t tell where she’s from, or even what her name is… Heather was at least found under some wreckage of a boat. But Whisper?” He winced at the very sound of her name. “She wouldn’t have swum more that those few hundred feet into the sea, and that territory has been thoroughly inspected by Fishlegs and Eret.

“Besides, that resemblance with Heather won’t make her any good, either,” he took it up again after a while, turning towards Toothless, in vain hope that his argumentation would find favour in the dragon’s eyes. Seeing, however, that there was no sympathy on the latter’s side, he waved his hand in a resigned gesture, and shifted to face the lake again. “Come on, we all know how it ended last time. It was enough for some random beauty to step onto the shore to make all of them lose their heads and hearts for her. All of _us_ ,” he added more quietly, ashamed with the recollection of his own thickness, which had put them at such a great risk just a few years back.

“ _Her ship was taken over by pirates. Her whole island is under siege!”_

“ _The only thing ‘under siege’ is your brain! You’re not thinking clearly!”_

“Well, that’s what I’m trying to do now, only that there’s nobody who’d care to listen! Good gods, Astrid, if this is how it looked like from your perspective… No wonder you were mad,” Hiccup answered his own memory that had kept planting him the flickering images of his past, not even noticing when he had come from pouring his heart to discussing his problems with his late fiancée.

“Of course, you were the only one who had not been deceived by big green eyes and pretty phrases. But that’s the point! We were all taken in by Heather’s tricks, and it almost ended up in a disaster, and now everyone – _everyone_ , Gobber, Gothi, and my own mother included – is making the same mistake! And they call _me_ the naive one? I know we haven’t had to worry about any grand conflicts for a while – we’ve been at peace with the Outcast for years now, with Dagur’s new attitude the Berserkers are no longer a problem, _Viggo_ is no longer a problem… But the dangers don’t end there, do they?

“I’m not saying Whisper is working for the Hunters. She doesn’t have to work for anybody, but as for now, the only proof of her goodwill towards Berk are her words and her present behaviour. Then again – it was exactly like that with Heather.”

Feeling as his prior, unhealthy excitement was being replaced with an even less healthy resignation, Hiccup raised his hand, in which he still held a few stones of different size and weight. He sighed, once again painfully realising that even though he was entirely genuine in his turning to Astrid, she could not for the world respond to his words. Almost carelessly, he tossed the shards ahead of him, watching as one by one they disappear in the pond.

He shook his head over his own thoughtless actions.

“We’ve burnt our fingers more than once because of gullibility, Bud. First with Heather, then with Drago… I don’t trust Whisper, and I think Astrid wouldn’t either.”

“Astrid would kick your butt for even thinking so,” he was mercilessly cut off by a firm female voice coming from behind his back, even though its owner was with no doubt separated from the young Chief by a considerable distance. “And then she would punch both of your shoulders for imposing the same on her.”

Hiccup turned back abruptly, roused from his thoughts and completely taken aback with the presence of anyone else than Toothless and himself. He was welcomed by a joyful, yet a little ironic expression on the young woman’s face – the same woman, whose name he had already pronounced so many times that day.

“Heather!” he cried out, confused, inwardly cursing his wretched habit of out-loud thinking. “Hey… Hey, Heather. That… I mean, it’s good to…” One of the girl’s brows rose distinctively, causing him to realise what it was he was doing, stuttering and floundering as if he had been fifteen again. He shook his head, and thus calmed, he glanced at Heather one more time; then he rolled his eyes as an answer to her short, clear laughter. He looked at her again. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to gather blackmail material for the rest of the month,” she answered, gracefully sliding off the saddle, and patting the neck of her silvery mount. “You must be pretty out of shape, _brother_ , if you let me sneak up on you like that.”

Hiccup crossed his arms on his chest, and rolled his eyes again.

“I’m getting old, apparently.”

“Right, you’ll be twenty-two in no time. You could say you have one foot in a grave already.”

“Oh, really? Which leg, may I ask – the one I still have, or the one I successfully lost six years ago?”

“Oh gods, not the leg jokes.”

“You’ve started it!”

Heather gave the man an imploring glare; then she left Windshear on her own, and almost jumping, she ran towards him. Hiccup had hardly had time to spread his arms, when the girl zealously crashed against his chest.

“I’ve missed you so much!” she called out almost in the same second, embracing him tightly. “We’ve been away for way too long.”

“And so have I, Heather.” The Viking smiled weakly, returning the gesture, feeling as – regardless of his will – he finally relaxed, free from the tension that hadn’t left him for a minute for so many weeks. “So have I.”

Long ago Hiccup had learnt to treat Heather like his own sister. The fact that they weren’t actually related – on the contrary to the assumption he had made at some point of their acquaintance – was of no importance to either of them.

“So, how’s life here, on Berk?”

Hiccup sighed deeply.

“Hiccup?”

“Don’t ask.”

“Is it really so bad?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright. So how is _your_ life?”

“A million times worse.”

“You mean…?”

“I’m a dead man, Heather.”

She pushed him away on the arm’s length, and eyed him carefully. Hiccup met her gaze; maybe if he hadn’t known her for so long, he would have believed in the concern that had reflected on her face. However, he was all too well acquainted with the sparkle that appeared in her eyes right after to let himself be deceived by such a poor sham.

He certainly couldn’t count on any kind of pity on her side.

“Oh, so it’s all normal for you. I almost thought it was something real this time.”

She stepped back and chuckled cordially at the sight of his hurt expression; she nudged him playfully, only to focus all of her attention on the Night Fury the next moment, as the dragon was eagerly demanding a proper greeting. Watching that scene, the young Chief crossed his arms once more, casting unbelieving glares at the blissfully unsuspecting Toothless.

“It’s good to know there’s someone whose sight actually makes that oversized lizard happy. He practically stopped paying any mind to me. Yes, I’m talking about you, you ungrateful reptile.”

“Maybe if you spared him from some of your meditations, he would be reacting a bit more enthusiastically.” The warrior did not cease to tickle the dragon’s jaw, clearly amused with her friend’s pretensions. “Besides, it’s not _that_ bad.”

“Did you see him three minutes ago?”

“Yes…?”

“Then you can judge his _enthusiasm_ yourself. I’m breaking my back, opening my heart, and all he does is grumble and snort. I think he has had enough of the sight of me too, because most of the time he just lies with his head down, and his eyelids closed. So much for gratitude.”

“Perhaps, but from what I observed, it was you standing with your back to him.” Heather winked at him knowingly, and turned to the dragon that was wriggling around next to her. “Alright, Toothless, enough of that. Go and keep Windshear company, and I’ll use that time to extract something from our dear Chief.”

“Why does it sound as if you were about to start a hearing?”

“Because I always do that?” The girl shrugged and having got past the Viking, she approached a huge stone situated right next to the water’s edge. It was a moment after when she was sitting on top of it, pointing her hand at the place by her side. Hiccup did not protest. “What, would you prefer me to beat about the bush, circling around the subject until you start talking? What am I supposed to do, hold casual conversations about the weather?”

“I’ll never understand how someone could think that all those ‘weather conversations’ can be casual,” the young man threw in, sitting next to her. “They always make me think of the most embarrassing situations in my entire life. Thank Odin no one is really trying to have them on Berk.”

“What a relief.”

“However, we can still swap roles, and for once let me do the questioning first.”

“That’s boring.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Alright, dragon boy. Go on.”

Hiccup cleared his throat in a theatrical manner.

“Your wish is my command. So, how are things on your side of the sea? Your real brother is doing well enough?”

“We’ll live. Dagur is as deranged as always, but… I guess that’s a part of his charm. Except for that, he seems to have everything under control, though, of course, he still happens to throw the too-bumptious commanders overboard when he think they deserve it. Fortunately, there were no fatalities so far. Thank the gods.”

“And the village?”

“Still standing. The latest storm pestered us a little, there are a few dwellings that -” Heather stopped short, noticing a sudden flash of worry on her companion’s face, after which she hurried with an explanation. “No, no, it’s nothing serious! A few roofs that have been blown off, a few rooms that have been flooded… Nothing we haven’t already dealt with. We’ll manage.”

“You sure?” Hiccup looked everything but convinced. “If you need some help, we could -”

“Hiccup, it’s fine. I know you would help us if there was a need for that, but I can’t hire your people when there’s so much to be done on Berk. The storm might have spared you this time, but I know that even without it you have plenty to think of.”

“You don’t need to question me to get your information, do you?”

“I have my sources.”

They both fell silent for a while, observing their four-legged friends, as they were zealously playing with one another. The young leader smiled softly, happy to see Toothless finally staying in the company that would find pleasure in the same activities.

He had used to play like that with Stormfly, too.

The girl sitting next to him noticed the sadness that suddenly reflected in the Chief’s eyes, and immediately reconstructed his way of thinking in her own mind. She, like nobody else, understood what was happening in his soul in the moments like this.

Thus, instead of asking, she decided to go back to the suspended topic, and confidently announced, “As I was saying, it’s all under control. If it wasn’t, I certainly wouldn’t be visiting you right now.”

Hiccup winced, snatched from his thoughts, and looked at her questioningly, “Yeah, about that. What brings you to Berk on this beautiful day?”

“My desire to see you, of course.”

“Ha, ha. And for real?”

“Listen, I’ve been planning that visit for a long time, and I really don’t need an excuse to come here. However… It sort of happened that Johann needed to be escorted, so I’d decided to combine business with pleasure.”

“Ha, I knew there was something more,” the man called out, with a note of vicious note playing in his voice; then he froze for a second, and rapidly turning towards the girl, he asked, “Wait, Johann is on Berk?”

Heather raised her eyebrows in astonishment.

“You didn’t know? I was sure you were intentionally hiding from him here.”

“What? No, I wasn’t -” Hiccup groaned, and hid his face in his hands. “Goodness gracious, can this day become any worse? I forgot, I completely forgot he was to come at this time, and this once, I’m not in the village! I have to go there, give him a reception -”

“Hiccup, calm down,” the warrior cut him off, and grasping his wrists, she forced him to uncover his face. “Nothing happened. Half of Berk came to the docks to meet him, and in that half was Valka, Eret, and the rest of the gang. And Johann isn’t some official _personage_ who must be welcomed like a King every single time. If there’s anything you must discuss with him, you’ll have plenty of time to do it. You know better than anyone that his visits are never too short for that.”

“Can’t disagree with that one.” The Chief chuckled nervously, still not entirely composed. “Gods, something _is_ wrong with me.”

“I could tell.” Heather let go of his hands. “What’s going on?”

“Everything,” her friend muttered.

“Details, Hiccup. Something happened during those few weeks of my absence, I can see it.”

“I’d be wasting your time.”

Clearly determined not to answer her, the man turned away, fixing his sight on the opposite side of the pond.

Fortunately – or not – the dark-haired woman wasn’t the kind of a person that would easily give up on their own resolutions. She tipped her head back, leaned on her hands, and with no further introduction, she gave him more of a statement than a question, “So you’ve got a guest on Berk.”

Hiccup stiffened, and then groaned again.

Bingo.

“Tell me, what is it that girl did to you, so you have such a problem with her?”

He glanced at her, reluctantly.

“I don’t trust her.”

“Alright, I’ve heard that much. But what did _she_ do? Except for having the misfortune of landing on Berk in the same way I did? No, wait; I suppose she really was caught up in a storm.” She ignored her companion’s weary sigh. “So what is it?”

“I don’t know!” he cried out at last, throwing his arms into the air in a hopeless gesture. “I just don’t trust her! She vexes me like nothing else. Her voice, her look, her facial expression – everything in her seems wrong. One moment she’s staring at you with a look of a frightened animal, and in the next she’s wallowing in pride, giving you the most outraged glare that has ever been cast. I swear, Heather, if looks could kill, I would’ve had both of my legs in a grave for more than two weeks now. And before you tell me I’d probably deserved it – maybe I had! But please forgive me, if that doesn’t make me feel any better about her. I don’t like her, I simply don’t like her. You can’t be friends with everybody. The whole island loves her – I don’t. That’s all.”

It was probably the first time when the young leader of Berk was so frank in expressing his feelings towards the brunette girl who had been staying in his village for the bigger part of the month. Even that day, which he had mostly spent on venting before Toothless on all the troubles that, in his opinion, were implicitly caused by Whisper herself, he did not manage to get to that final, summative, illuminative conclusion.

“That’s new,” his companion murmured; this time her voice was free from the casual sarcasm. “It has always been the other way round with you.”

“Please, Heather. You have no idea how many times a day I get to hear that line.”

“Maybe because it’s true. You’ve changed, Hiccup.”

“The circumstances have changed.”

His green eyes were now shining with this kind of stoutness that Heather – just as the rest of their friends – could not bear seeing. His set jaw was like a pitiless proof that there was a line that had been crossed, a border, beyond which there was nothing except for dull, helpless despair.

It wasn’t like his expression reminded her of pain she had managed to forget – fairly speaking, when it came to the loss of her best friend, the young Berserker wasn’t doing much better than the Viking sitting so close to her.

That was the reason why it was so easy for her to recreate his tangled thoughts. It was exactly the same trouble she had been going through herself.

Even if her relationship with Astrid differed significantly from what was between her friend and Hiccup – there was no romance between the girls, to be sure – for Heather, the blue-eyed warrior remained the dearest creature in the entire world. There was no other person in her life – neither Hiccup, nor Fishlegs, nor Dagur – that had ever meant to her as much, as Astrid Hofferson had.

Against her better judgement, she sighed, lowering her gaze on her own knees. Automatically, Hiccup turned towards her, and cursed his own egoism, which had made the girl’s good mood falter so easily. He poked her lightly, and gave her a weak smile.

“Don’t think about it now,” he hummed. “And you’re right, I have changed. I shouldn’t have snarled at you like this.”

“I know what it’s like.” Heather returned the smile; she was positively relieved.

“It doesn’t excuse me. Believe me, I’m well aware of how differently I behave – but what does it change, if I can’t do anything about it? And all of those comments only make me want to try less.”

“I suppose we just miss that careless, dorky Hiccup we used to know so well.”

He only shook his head.

“I was dorky with her. For her. You know that.”

They both turned back abruptly at the sound of a breaking branch; of course, it was nothing else but a part of a game their winged friends were playing with such a zest. The young Chief looked at the other leader, and picked up the temporarily abandoned thread, hoping to give their conversation a little more pleasant course.

“So what is it exactly you’d like to know? You were supposed to extract information from me, and instead, you’re agreeing to my moaning and complaints. What do we start with?”

“There is only one issue making me intrigued now,” she answered, and the usual pertness could be heard in her words again. “So if only you are capable of speaking calmly about… Wait, what is her name, actually?”

“Whisper.”

“Loki, help us. Really?”

“Yes.”

“Like in, Whispering Death?”

“I see you share my thoughts on this one.” Hiccup laughed hollowly, recalling his own connotations. “A Twins’ idea, but she personally accepted it.”

“Wow. Fine, so what about her?”

He shrugged.

“Tell me what you know, and I’ll tell you the rest.”

“Not much, in fact. All I’ve heard is that you’re being absolutely horrible towards her, but we’ve already discussed that one.”

“Who told you that?” He glanced at her, offended.

“I talked to some people at the harbour.”

“Eret?”

“Thor help me, no.” Heather started, and seeing her interlocutor’s amused glare, she added, “What? You can’t be friends with everyone, right? I was talking to Snotlout, but it doesn’t matter now. All I know is that she’s kind, helpful, and can’t remember a thing. Is that true?”

Hiccup confirmed.

“And she cast a spell on the island?”

“Heather, I beg you -”

“ _The whole island is at her service. Heather could learn from her!_ ”

“In the name of… Are you ever going to stop mocking me?”

“I’m just making sure I got it all right. It all adds up so far. Anything else I should know?”

“She’s said to be a good cook, but I don’t think that it changes much.”

“Not the most popular skill amongst the Hooligans, you should appreciate that,” the girl muttered and then, as if dazzled, she widened her eyes, leaned towards Hiccup, and with a sudden excitement she whispered, “Is it true she’s wearing Ruffnut’s clothes?”

Her companion blurted something as a response, quietly enough not be heard distinctively; yet Heather didn’t need that.

She covered her mouth, shocked.

“Odin almighty, it is true.”

“Mhm.”

“And how does she look?”

“Awful.”

“Seriously? Your mum said she was pretty.”

“Maybe, but… I’m sorry, Heather, but even you would look bad in those clothes.”

The young woman pursed her lips, suppressing a laugh. No matter how much her opinion of Ruffnut improved throughout the years, she still wasn’t able to accept her friend’s attitude towards her own looks.

“And you let that happen?”

“I am not her dresser. If Whisper doesn’t mind, why should I?”

“Technically, you’re right. But you know, just because she doesn’t complain, it’s doesn’t mean she actually likes it.”

“A suggestion from her would be enough to fix it, trust me.”

“If you say so.” Heather jumped off the rock and whistled at Windshear, who appeared at her side shortly after. “There’s just one thing that keeps me wondering. I understand you don’t have to feel an undying love for her, but from everything you’ve said it seems she’s just a normal, pretty likeable girl, ready to help and not expecting much for herself. So why such resentment? Do you seriously think she could be trying to hoax you?”

“Honestly? No, I don’t,” Hiccup answered baldly, joining her. “I don’t know where it comes from myself, Heather. I just have some bad feelings about her. I can’t explain that.”

“Bad feelings, you say.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s ridiculous.” He sighed, resting his hands on his hips, watching his friend check the lashing straps on her saddle. “But I still can't help it.”

“Sure, I get it.”

“No, wait.” He shook his head. “I don’t want you to be led by my opinion – no one else seems to share it so far. Go meet her, and judge for yourself what you want to think of all this. Who knows, maybe there is something wrong about me, stopping me from seeing that charm everybody is talking about. It may turn out that you two will become the closest of friends; you could really use someone like that.”

As he was pronouncing the last phrases, Hiccup did all of his might to optimistic and sincere at the same time. He truly didn’t want his prejudice (alright then, he might have been _a little_ prejudiced) to influence the relationship between the two women. Against his good intentions, however, Heather’s reaction was quite the opposite to what he had hoped for – she froze in the middle of her work, still standing with her back facing him, not able to do much more.

Then, she slowly turned towards him, giving him the same longing glare he knew so well from his own reflection.

For the hundredth time that day, he felt like slapping his own face.

“You’re not the only one who finds her irreplaceable,” she answered him quietly, forcing a weak, unbelievably sad smile. Before Hiccup had a chance to say a word, she had jumped onto the silver dragon’s back, and having calmed her emotions down a bit, she added, “Don’t play foreboding, Hiccup, it really isn’t your thing. I’ll see you in the village.”

She grinned a bit more widely, and without further goodbyes, she made Windshear take to the air, leaving the dark-haired Viking with no one except his loyal Night Fury – and with thousands of thoughts he could not deal with.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 10  
One day I will**

_W_ _ithout you, I feel broke_   
_Like I'm half of a whole_   
_Without you, I've got no hand to hold_   
_Without you, I feel torn_   
_Like a sail in a storm_ _  
_ _Without you, I'm just a sad song_

* * *

_Arm-in-arm, side by side,_ they kept staring at the shape of a boat that slowly ebbed away from the sight, a boat on the deck of which their new friend was heading towards her long missed home. An oceanic breeze enfolded them, while the last beams of the setting sun illuminated their tired, yet joyful, finally peaceful faces. All in all, the scenery was more than romantic.

And that was when she punched him again.

“Hey!” he cried out, sending her a mock-offended glare, and shook his head, seeing the perverse grin on her lips. He’d already managed to get used to it; more than once was he to feel her knuckles on his shoulder, though usually, it signified nothing but sympathy.

Truth be told, it was rather an unusual way of showing one’s affection – why, if everything about her was unusual, as well.

“Good Thor, why is it always violence with you?”

The blonde girl glanced at him dismissively, and only shrugged her shoulders, once again fixing her gaze on the horizon’s line. Neither she, nor her dark-haired companion said anything for quite some time.

“Disappointed, aren’t you?” the warrior broke the silence eventually, causing the most natural astonishment of the boy standing beside her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he answered sincerely.

“Oh, come on. You were sure you’d get that hug.”

“I… don’t… why…”

“I saw what you did there.” She nudged him much more gently this time. “And I saw your face when she turned towards Toothless. If that makes you feel any better, I also expected her to throw her arms around your neck rather than mine.”

Hiccup rolled his eyes, unable to hold back a smile.

“You think we’ll see her again?”

“Who knows. If we do, I bet it will be in the most unexpected circumstances.” Having summed up the matter like this, Astrid yawned lingeringly, simultaneously turning on her heel and stretching her arms above her head. “That day was way too long. What do you say we go back home, throw ourselves on our beds and sleep it all off?”

“Sounds like a plan.” The boy laughed quietly. “Although I still have a few trinkets waiting for me in the workshop; but of course, I’ll gladly walk you home and to the very door of it.”

She raised her brows, eyeing him sceptically.

“You don’t need to _walk me home._ ”

“We’re heading in the same direction anyway.”

The warrior wanted to respond with a more cutting comment, eventually however, she only waved her hand and set off towards the village, letting Hiccup join her at his own pleasure. She winced when the cold sea gust reached her. It really was getting late – the sun had just ultimately hidden below the far ocean line – and with every passing second it was getting colder and darker on the island of Berk. Moreover, she truly was exhausted by the events of the last few days, not only – and not primarily – because of the physical struggle.

She was happy to think how well it all ended for them; but she was even happier to know that the entire upheaval could be now put behind them.

She peered at the boy walking next to her, and smiled seeing him nervously rub his neck, clearly desiring to raise some mysterious issue, yet not having the courage to do so. It was a gesture she hadn’t noticed him do earlier, and she couldn’t help wondering if it was only a one-time action, or was it a new habit that, for some reason, Hiccup developed exactly at this time.

Personally, she found it quite… adorable.

The Rider took notice of her intrigued glare, and confounded, he shifted uncomfortably, unable to understand the sudden interest in him.

“A-Astrid? What… What is it?” he asked, completely taken aback.

Good gods, hadn’t he already learnt how to control that stuttering?

“I was wondering what you are so focused on.”

“I… Ah, it’s nothing.” Pretending not to care, he waved his hand absently, even though he was well aware that Astrid wouldn’t ease up on him like that. In fact, he himself knew that there were thoughts he _should_ voice – he simply didn’t feel like doing it at this particular moment. “I’m doing a review of the past few days, that’s all.”

“There certainly are things you should think of.”

Resigned, Hiccup sighed.

“Okay, I know what you’re trying to say. I acted like an idiot, believing in Heather’s stories in spite of all of the signs that something was wrong. I ignored all of your observations, I didn’t believe you when you told me about what you’d seen during that night, and -”

“Hiccup, stop.”

Even though the command obviously referred to the torrent of words that came out of the young Viking’s mouth, Hiccup halted in the most literal sense; having stopped like this, he glared at the girl that stood by his side, with a question reflecting in his bright, green eyes. Still, whatever it was that was happening inside of his head, Astrid gave him no time to pronounce it out loud.

“That’s not what I meant. All I’m saying is that a lot has happened recently, and that we all have issues we must reconsider. Although… it’s good you’re aware of your own mistakes.”

A sparkle that twinkled in her eyes while she was voicing the last sentence positively proved that she wasn’t going to let go of the matter completely. Hiccup snorted.

“You couldn’t just, I don’t know, comfort me?”

“I could. And I will, one day. When you earn it.”

“Amazing. So you agree I behaved like a moron?”

“You leave me no choice here.”

“Fantastic.” The boy looked away, not entirely sure how he should treat his best friend’s answer. On one hand, Astrid sharply cut off his remorseful speech, laughing up his explanations and general agitation – on the other, she openly admitted that she found his behaviour at least invalid, stupid even.

And even though it was no revelation to him, it didn’t make him feel any better.

“You’re still angry with me, aren’t you?” he muttered, not even realising how accurately the tone of his voice conveyed the qualms that were still torturing him. “What am I asking, you must be. Exposing the island is one thing, but you yourself… No, please Astrid, let me finish this. It’s not even the fact I let them trick me, but even knowing what was going on, I insisted to stick to what I thought was true. When you came to tell me about Heather meeting the Outcasts… Gods, you don’t know how hard it is to talk about it.” He stroke his palm against his face, full of despise for his own being. “I don’t know what happened to me. After everything we’d been through, I should’ve trusted you, not her. And it’s all clear and obvious now, and that’s what you had every right to expect.”

His hand found its way to his neck again, and he still couldn’t force himself to look her straight in the eye. Astrid kept observing him silently, fully focused on that slightly incoherent, not entirely understandable dilatation.

Hiccup sighed again.

“That night I said things I never should have said. I had no right to assume that you were mistaken, and I surely shouldn’t have reject your warnings that easily. It won’t happen again. I just wanted to say… I’m sorry, Astrid.”

Not until he poured out the last word, did Hiccup dare to look up at the girl. Her facial expression showed nothing but concentration – her brows were furrowed, but revealed no ire, her mouth was closed, but it was not tightened. She was staring at him half-expectantly, without that spiteful, teasing grin – with no grin at all.

That was probably the worst part of it.

‘ _Say something. For the love of Thor, Astrid, please say something,’_ the brunette Dragon Rider kept repeating in his thoughts. Till that moment he’d been assuming that Astrid couldn’t be _too_ mad at him – until he himself voiced all of his guilts out loud.

She had every reason to be mad at him.

“You know, that last line would be enough.”

Roused from his own meditation, he focused his sight on her. She still looked absolutely serious, however, something in her glare told him she didn’t at all feel like being cross with him.

He swallowed nervously.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Though, as I was saying, it’s good you see what went wrong.”

“And you’re not upset?”

Astrid shrugged.

“Now, when it’s all over anyway? I think I’m too tired to argue with you at the moment.”

“That’s… understanding of you.”

“Which doesn’t mean I’ll forgive you.”

“Oh.”

“Or more like, I forgive, not forget. You can bet your leg I’ll bring it up at the suitable moment.”

“I don’t doubt that.” The boy allowed himself a shy smile. “All I need now is your ‘I told you so’.”

“Well, if you admit that I’ve earned it yourself, I don’t think there’s a point in me actually saying it.” Astrid smiled more widely, no longer able to hide the amusement that the sight of her intimidated, confused friend had caused.

As far as she could recall, Hiccup had been “different”. He’d been that quiet, private, isolated kid, in whose eyes playing with his peers (whose games, she had to admit, were far from refined) was much less entertaining that the almost legendary troll hunting and his own sketches. He’d also been, or at least he’d seemed to be gauche, as if he couldn’t adjust to the world in which he’d come to live. He had always been smart, she had no doubts about that – but there was something in his behaviour that had made him look as if he’d been unable (or maybe, unwilling?) to use his outstanding intelligence to improve his existence on the isle of Berk.

And he’d constantly been baffled.

Each and every time she had happened to appear in the smithy, she was met by his perplexed stare; no matter what he’d been doing earlier, having noticed her he always came back to work with a doubled investment, as if he was trying to conceal the fact that he was aware of her presence in the first place, letting Gobber take her order instead.

It had always amused her, and she’d never thought it could have been anything improper. She knew she was pretty, and she knew what an impression her personality made on her peers. She neither took pride in it, nor let it vex her – she didn’t need Snotlout courting her to realise her worth, and she certainly could do without it. Yet, she couldn’t deny that she liked to compel awe.

Still, Snotlout’s importunity or Fishlegs’ amazed staring were one thing; Hiccup, as usual, was a very different matter. She couldn’t have said whether she’d liked him or not – they had hardly ever spoke, and even if they had, the boy had usually got lost in his own stammering, making the whole conversation an absolute failure anyway. Astrid had shrugged her shoulders then, and set off to her own business, totally and perfectly indifferent to the miserable boy she had been leaving behind her.

Hiccup had not disturbed her. That’s all that she could have said.

And then everything had changed. The Training, Toothless, the battle at the Dragons’ nest – the events from over a year before not only had turned the life of Berk upside down, but they had directly influenced the boy without whom they wouldn’t have taken place. Hiccup had changed. He had grown in strength and reason, earning the sense that he was a worthy young man. He’d finally gained the confidence that his opinions had mattered – and suddenly, he’d stopped being afraid of sharing them.

The fair-haired warrior had finally found a companion with whom she could simply talk, debate, dispute. Someone with whom she was able to cooperate.

However, as she was gazing at him now, she realised she was glad that the Viking hadn’t got rid of his shyness completely. Honestly speaking, it was a feature she pretty much liked about him.

She shook her head.

“Really, Hiccup. It’s fine.”

She nodded towards the village, wanting to end the discussion that in her own eyes seemed entirely unnecessary. Hiccup had understood his own silliness – and he had apologised for it. She needed nothing more.

The boy divined her thoughts, and with no further dallying, he set off in the pointed direction, close by the golden-haired girl’s side.

Toothless was following them close behind, reminding the Riders of his presence with occasional jogs, plainly eager for a flight. Still, his taunting remained unanswered – however tired the two friends were, they really didn’t feel like parting their ways just yet, even if they didn’t fully realised it themselves. They simply walked in silence together, focused on their own musing, enjoying the company of one another. At that time, it was all they wished for.

Despite all this, Hiccup couldn’t help but shoot furtive, uncertain glances in the direction of his dear friend, incapable of chasing away the thoughts that were invading his mind. Even assuming that the misunderstandings between them were clarified, the young leader still had a lot to think about.

And gods, it wasn’t easy.

Glancing at the warrior that was walking beside him, he couldn’t not think of the danger in which she had been just a few hours earlier. Of course, he hadn’t doubted that Astrid would perform perfectly, eventually finding her way out of the trouble, all while staying safe and sound – she always had. Had he not have that confidence, he would never have agreed to carry out that insanely risky operation.

On the other hand, it was a plan prepared by the warrior herself, and he knew better than anyone that when Astrid set her mind on something, it was hard to talk her out of it. If there was one person on Berk that was more stubborn than he was, it was Astrid Hofferson.

“ _You’re sure about this?”_

“ _No! But this is our only chance!”_

That was all her.

They were marching closely by, so that their hands brushed repetitively. Astrid seemed not to notice, concentrating her sight on the path before her or sporadically peering at Toothless, who still hadn’t ceased to demand her attention. Her companion couldn’t force such an indifference on him, and tensely setting his teeth, he was once again thanking the deities that the girl was too busy to actually look at him.

He inhaled deeply, somewhat disappointed, and making sure Astrid’s attention was fully focused on the Night Fury that was pacing beside her, he fixed his gaze on his friend’s profile.

His _friend_. Exactly.

That was how he would describe her to anyone who’d ask him about the relationship that linked them, and what is more, it was also how he called her in his own meditations. They were friends, there was no doubt about that – Hiccup dared to think that their friendship was intimate and strong, and he was far from underestimating it. Astrid was more than just his advisor, his right-hand girl, his second in command. It was her he came to when finding a solution to his problems seemed impossible, it was her he asked for help when his own wit let him down. It was her with whom he first shared all of his plans.

Astrid supported him when everything appeared to be falling into pieces, and she never seemed to doubt in him, at the same time remaining perfectly ready to whack his head with a shield, when only she realised that his ideas were getting out of the reason’s hold.

In other words, she trusted him to the point at which he had to trust her.

The Viking swore inwardly, recalling how much he’d abused that trust during the last few days.

‘ _What about us, Astrid?’_ he asked himself, unable to take his eyes off her. _‘What is between us?’_

He had put the question so many times already, and he still couldn’t find an answer that would satisfy him. If he’d been to explain the matter a dozen or so months earlier, he wouldn’t have had the slightest trouble doing so: shortly and truthfully, he would’ve responded that he was entirely infatuated, as strongly as only a fifteen years old boy can be – all while she paid him no mind whatsoever. Analysing his previous feelings, Hiccup had to agree that they were rather shallow and silly – but at least they weren’t as tangled up as the ones that were whirling inside of him presently.

However ridiculous it might seem, he really couldn’t define his attitude towards her. The old crush had long been gone, extruded by a healthy, firm, friendly relationship… and yet, Hiccup would have lied if he’d said that friendship was all he desired. It was like building a foundation for the further rapprochement, without which their acquaintance would have been – at most – nothing but a relation between a pair of naively besotted teenagers, thus only a mere shadow of what it could become with the minimal involvement on their side.

He wanted to treat it seriously, and was convinced that rushing things would bring them no good – then again, the thought of Astrid concluding that she doesn’t want anything more herself, terrified him. He reminded himself over and over again that he was overreacting, that he was dwelling on the subject too intensively – but it was of no use.

Maybe he was only sixteen years old. Maybe, in the eyes of the older generation he and Astrid were just a couple of kids, quite responsible, but surely far from maturity. This, however, did not mean that their emotions were any less important, nor that they deserved to be given less attention.

The dark-haired Rider had stopped looking at his companion long ago, instead boring into the ground below him. His metal prosthetic wasn’t clattering against the wooden panels of the dock’s platforms any more, as they hadleft those in the distance behind them; the sky was darkening rapidly, and he remained silent, deaf and blind to the surrounding that changed around him.

He kicked a stone that happened to lie in his way.

“Hiccup?” Astrid roused him from that odd wistfulness. The boy met her glare, and immediately spotted the anxiety that was reflecting in her way too blue eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he denied a little too quickly. “Everything is fine.”

She raised her brows, not believing a single word of his.

“Hiccup.”

“What?”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I wasn’t trying to lie.”

“Then tell me what this is all about.”

“What for?”

“Because I’m starting to worry.”

Once again was he to halt in his tracks, this time on his own account; but that surprised, he simply had to stop.

“What do you mean: worry? I’m fine.”

“First you stare at me, and then you can’t even look me in the eye. Don’t pull that face at me, just because I’m not looking, doesn’t mean I can’t see.”

“But -”

“Look, as for me, you’re way overthinking it. As always.” In the most natural manner she put a hand on his arm and squeezed it lightly. “I had to give you an earful, but that’s enough. It doesn’t matter if we meet Heather again or not, this particular episode is now behind us. Draw conclusions, but don’t stew.”

Hiccup smiled weakly.

“You almost sound as if you wanted to comfort me,” he mumbled. “But it’s not about Heather.”

“What is it about then?”

“Nothing important.”

“You still can’t lie.”

He sighed ostentatiously.

“I’d just rather not answer that.”

‘ _But one day I will,’_ he finished in his thoughts. One day. When he would finally deal with the doubts that were plaguing him, when he would sort out his own hopes and longing, finally, when he would muster the courage needed for the task – then he would answer her. All he could do was to pray to Odin that he wouldn’t miss his chance.

Astrid didn’t say a word, only nodding to show that she accepted his explanation. Then, she glanced at the house before which they had halted – her own house. Hiccup followed gaze; until that moment he hadn’t been aware that they had already reached the destination of their short journey. Something in his chest stung him unpleasantly when it occurred to him that in a very short while he would have to say his goodbye.

Hardly had he managed to realise that, he felt a punch on his shoulder, one that was way too strong for his liking.

“What on… Astrid!”

“That’s for not being honest with me,” the warrior answered his cry without the slightest falter. “And for making me upset during the last days. I forgive, not forget.”

And then, not giving him another second to think it through, she moved closer to him, and brushed her lips against his cheek.

“And that’s for everything else.”

And just like that, as if was the most obvious act in the world, she turned on her heel, and briskly ran upon the stairs that lead to her hut. Having opened the door, she hesitated, peered at the couple that was watching her from below; with a strangely uncertain grin she threw them a short ‘goodnight’ - and with that, she was gone.

Hiccup kept staring at the wooden frame for a long while, ignoring Toothless’ nudging, which was becoming more and more regular, while the dragon clearly was annoyed with the lack of attention of his human friend. At last, the boy looked down at him, shook his head on both Night Fury’s impatience and his own distraction, and jumped onto the saddle almost immediately after.

If he’d had problems figuring out the meaning of his own feelings earlier, he was not even trying to do it now; he well knew that it wouldn’t change a thing. At this point he could only count that his relationship with the blonde girl would clarify in some natural way, and that it would happen sometime soon.

The more rational part of his being was telling him it would be exactly the opposite.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 11  
It was her day**

_I will ride, I will fly_   
_Chase the wind and touch the sky,_   
_I will fly, chase the wind and touch the sky_

* * *

She had woken up long before the sun arrived at the spacious interior of the Thorston House.

It was not that she had slept unwell, nor that her sleep was light enough to be interrupted by any random noise. Quite the opposite – despite all bewilderment and daze that had surely been her share during the first days of her stay on Berk, she could not complain about one restless night. Her sleep was healthy and strong, but maybe those were the reasons why she didn’t need so much of it. Especially that even with her best will, she was never able to find an exercise that would truly tire her – her new friends really didn’t let her overwork herself.

And how could she help the fact that was an early bird by nature?

She was lying supine now, her gaze fixed on the wooden ceiling, the thick beams supporting the roof looming blearily many feet above her head. She was smiling to herself, musing about the upcoming day, wondering what new discoveries she’d have a chance to make. Would she be once again forced to run, chasing the Twins around the island? Probably. Would she manage to learn some other detail about her temporary place of living? She sincerely hoped she would.

Maybe she’d even be blessed enough to make a new acquaintance.

She turned to her side, resting her cheek on her hand, and sighed quietly. Obviously, her current situation still was a cause of confusion, not letting her enjoy all of the positive events she could otherwise experience in her everyday life. However, even though Whisper would have given all she had (on the other hand, how little that was!) to learn who she really was and what she was doing on this small, isolated island, she was not going to waste her precious time on meditations and sobs. All she had experienced so far only proved that even without that knowledge, she still could befriend her hosts, and as simple as it sounds, just seize the day.

Berk seemed to cloak more than a few mysteries, and getting to know them gave the girl some kind of strange, inexplicable joy. Every time she succeeded in gaining a new piece of information or combining two fragments of the same story (which, however, she heard as two separate ones), she relished the fact as if she had at least found a new unknown land. She was aware that her enthusiasm amused the Vikings, to whom her discoveries were nothing but a part of their everyday lives, and she certainly couldn’t blame them for the cordial laughter with which they reacted to her pride as she told them about her victories in that field. Still, they had remained kind towards her, and for that, even their slightly sarcastic comments could not discourage her to continue her search.

She glanced at the small window, pondering on how much longer she would have to endure for the dawn. The sky wasn’t entirely dark at this point, yet it was still far from being bright, too.

Alright, she would linger. After all, they say being patient pays.

The truth was, she couldn’t wait until she’d be able to leave the hut in which she was staying. Not because she didn’t feel well there; she did not mean the actual moving out, either. It was just that on that specific morning her entire being craved going out – she wanted fresh air, bright sunshine and a little bit of time for herself. The rawness of the morn allowed her to hope to be gifted with all three of those at once.

Still though, she preferred to avoid strolling around the village at a time that might be considered too early – the last thing she needed was raising the suspicion that she was snooping around at nights, poking her nose into other people’s business.

That was why she waited.

She was approached by the sudden grunting coming from Tuff, soon followed by his indistinguishable murmur. Whisper’s smile widened when she thought of her hosts, ready for all sorts of concessions for her sake. An old thought came to her mind, reminding her that she didn’t deserve all of the kindness she had been granted with lately, regardless of the fact that the whole island claimed something completely opposite.

After a few moments of this kind of contemplation, she once again glanced at the window frame, joyfully noticing that beyond it, the sky had already gained a much warmer hue. Carefully, she lifted herself from the bed, and as quietly as possible, she stood next to it. The chilliness of the floor tackled her; yet, she didn’t mind. She stretched, folded the blanket given to her and dressed up as quickly as she could, setting towards the door immediately after.

When she approached it, she turned back, embracing the room with one last look and listening to the possible noises that could in some way disturb her – nothing of the kind occurred, though. It was empty and it was quiet; Barf and Belch were nowhere to be seen.

She wasn’t sure whether that final observation should worry her or not, the fact remained, however; there was no use pondering about it any longer.

She cautiously cracked the door open and crossed the threshold. She felt the difference at once – and as she was closing the door, she already knew that getting up so much earlier was an idea not only good, but in fact perfect. It was true that she adored her friends, no matter if they were the representatives of her own species or not. She did, however, as every other human being need a moment of solitude, and now she finally had a chance to get it.

As for the Twins, she was not too worried about leaving them to themselves. She was well aware that they had returned to their hut quite late last night, having spent a good few hours in the Great Hall, apparently enjoying the company of a newly arrived friend. Whether it was the merchant whom the villagers had welcomed a day earlier or was it a completely different person, she could not tell; still, she couldn’t bring herself to care about it now. All that mattered at the moment was the fact that her favourite siblings wouldn’t get up from their pits for the upcoming few hours.

They shouldn’t miss her, really.

She took off in a brisk step, looking around rather carelessly. She turned out to be right in her assumptions – even though the village obviously was not pulsating with life, it wasn’t entirely solitary, either. A scent of baked bread was coming from the dwellings that she passed, and so were the noises of the work done on the occasion. Whisper immediately felt her own hunger, which, regardless of an early hour, was slowly starting to bite – she ignored it, however, too busy with the observation of her surroundings. Breakfast could surely wait a little longer.

She was curious if she would meet any of her close acquaintances while strolling around the island so early in the morning. It was not as improbable as it might have seemed – as a forge worker Gustav usually began fulfilling his tasks before anyone so much as thought of stopping by at the smithy, and her talks with Eret suggested that he himself didn’t use to laze in bed until noon, either; nor did Valka seem to be a sort of person that would put her own comfort above the duties that were resting on her shoulders.

From what she’d heard, her son wasn’t much different.

‘ _Stop it,’_ she reproached herself quietly, feeling her good mood break down rapidly. _‘Even if he did get up so early, it doesn’t mean you’ll meet. And if you do, then you’ll bear it with a smile. Hiccup is not some kind of a monster you have to be afraid of.’_

No, he certainly wasn’t a monster. The problem was, she still couldn’t say who Hiccup really was.

She shook her head, trying to get rid of the intrusive thoughts. She wasn’t going to let her good humour vanish because of something she couldn’t help – it was her day, _her morning_ , and Whisper was determined to make the best of it. There were a lot of issues to sort out, a lot of problems and information to analyse. Hiccup did have a place on that list; yet the girl was resolved not to allow the memories of him slip into her mind until she has decided it was his turn to come.

She was by no means going to give him such a power over her.

Although her pace was free from its usual rush, the girl’s journey was not completely aimless. Last evening, more or less at the time when all of her companions had left for the Great Hall, Gustav barged in into the workshop with a triumphant cry that Mrs Hofferson’s saddle had been repaired, and that in his humble opinion, it now looked better than ever in the past. After hearing Gobber’s obvious queries, the apprentice was released from his job until the next morning. However, instead of going straight to his home, he caught Whisper’s hand and without a word of explanation, he dragged her in a direction unknown to anyone but him, ignoring her protests and questions, even more impatient than they usually were.

He lead her like that through the whole village, causing amazement of the Vikings they passed by, even though he didn’t pay much attention to it. Only when they reached their destination did the boy let her hand out of the tight grasp and rather carelessly, he gestured to a fragment of the shore that was currently looming ahead of them.

“I thought it would be good for you to know about this place. You know, in case you wanted to be alone for a moment, without risking someone suddenly surprising you with their presence. It’s not a very secretive spot, but maybe that’s why nobody really cares about coming here. _Nobody_ ,” he emphasised meaningfully. “The Chief included.”

She wanted to scold him for a comment so improper, but Gustav didn’t give her even a second.

“It’s just so you’d have a place where you can gather your thoughts peacefully. Now, please excuse us, but Fanghook and I have a few more businesses to take care of. So with the permission of Your Majesty, we will now vanish from her sight.”

And with that he was gone, leaving her alone on the little beach, cut off from the rest of Berk with nothing but a low spur; that was where she was heading now.

She went by a few familiar spots on the way, but didn’t come across anyone with whom she should talk differently than by exchanging casual greetings. When she arrived at the forge’s neighbourhood, she strained her senses, searching for her young friend, but apparently even he hadn’t come up early enough for her to meet. She shrugged. Maybe that was for the better? Who knows how much time she would have spent on a witty, meaningless chat with the future blacksmith, while at the moment every second seemed to be worth more than gold.

Having reached that point, she had no problems marking the further route. She truly was enjoying the thought that with every passing day she found it easier to move around the place, getting to know its winding streets better and better, almost effortlessly estimating her temporary locations.

It was one of those little pleasures that no one but her could understand.

Not much time had passed when she reached her destination. It was more than chilly – the sea wind stroke her with its fierce blast, and made her shiver; still, it made no impression on Whisper whatsoever. There was crispness in that wind, one that she craved so much, there was freedom and liberty which she had not felt since she had first opened her eyes on another of Berk’s wide shores. She started to wonder how she could not notice that obvious longing in herself, one she was feeling most strongly at the present time.

Without much thinking she shed her heavy boots and dipped her feet in the bright sand. It was no warmer than the floor of the Thorston house, and yet again, she could not care less. Cold meant fresh, and that was exactly what she needed right now.

The girl shifted from one foot to another, experiencing a hit of the new wave of energy. She made a step forward, then another, and another, jumping higher and faster with every next try. She ducked back, dived to the side, and then with a smooth move she glided in the opposite direction, easily proceeding to a series of spins.

Before she’d realised it herself, she was dancing on the shore, dizzy with her own enthusiasm, moving with grace that had not been seen on Berk for generations.

Whisper stumbled and wobbled, however, that only caused her unusual cheerfulness to grow – the girl laughed loudly, and returned to her interrupted activity almost immediately. Nothing – and no one – called for her attention this once.

_"Seven a.m., the usual morning line-u_ _p -”_ she hummed under her breath, not for a second wondering on why those specific words and melody were the ones to come to her mind, even though she should in fact be surprised she’d been able to recall any.

“ _Start on the chores and sweep 'till the floor's all clean -”_

She swirled in another twist, simultaneously shaking off the uncomfortable vest Ruffnut had given her. Oh yes, it was much better without it.

“ _Polish and wax, do laundry, and mop and shine up -”_

A flock of Terrible Terrors flew above her head, squawking a language no one but them could understand.

“ _Sweep again, and by then it's like seven fifteen!”_

She halted. With her face turned towards the water, she inhaled deeply, imbibing the sight of the morning light that played on the ocean’s calm waves. The wind was hauling in her ears; not a single cloud was looming on the bright blue northern sky.

Her ears were approached by another dragon scream. One of the Terrors had clearly strayed from the group, at this very moment landing just a few steps away from the young woman and glaring at her with an undisguised interest. Whisper turned her face towards it, and grinning, she tilted her head to the side; the animal that was watching her did exactly the same. She reached out her hand, just as she’d done it during her first meeting with her hosts’ two-headed dragon – and she took it back at the same moment. If that gesture meant so much, she should not use it carelessly.

Still, the Terror seemed too intrigued to simply fly away, and not minding her behaviour at all, it came closer. Whisper froze in anticipation, and a couple of seconds later the dragon was hanging around her legs, brushing them, fawning like a cat in want of more caresses.

The brunette chuckled at the sight and was just about to bow and strike the creature, when the latter had incautiously stepped into the water with one of its legs, and recoiled like if it was scalded. Without any further warning, it took off in the air a moment later, and joined the flock that was disappearing in the distance. She followed it with her gaze, and then looked down on her feet. Her bare toes lay just a few inches from the clear sea water – it was enough to move her feet a little forward to feel its chilly caress; however, Whisper hesitated.

The last time she’d dealt with the ocean had been during that absolutely terrifying storm.

The tempest that had cast her away was a border line that separatedher former life from the one she’d been leading on Berk for the past weeks. Not only in the most literal sense, so as a direct cause for her stay on the island. The storm was that threshold that divided her memory into two – she acknowledged and remembered everything that happened after it with no difficulty. She knew absolutely nothing about what had happened before.

As for the storm itself, the memories of it also seemed to balance at the edge of reality and nightmare, of which Whisper still couldn’t think with a perfect composure. She would by no means recall where, with who and on what ship she had been sailing – instead, her head was still full of vibrant impressions of the moment when the crew had started to lose the battle against the raging elements.

She remembered the voices of men, calling out for help; a cry of a child, scared by the roars of thunders… She remembered a crack of a breaking mast, and the terrified screams of those who were unlucky enough to watch its fall on the flooded deck.

She remembered the beating of the waves, covering her with their weight and her own desperate struggling for even the shortest of breaths.

She shuddered and shook her head, forcing herself to come back to reality. That tempest belonged to the past, and it was not for her to judge whether it could have been avoided or not. All she could do was pray for those who’d been accompanying her, hoping that they had managed to come out of the catastrophe safe and sound, just as she had – and that’s what she had been doing ever since gaining her consciousness back.

Once again, she fixed her gaze on the steady sea waves. She was not afraid of them; there were too many things she fretted about to add anything more to the list. Ordering herself to stay calm, she took a step forward.

Wading ankle-deep in the icy water, she felt her strength arising in her again together with the will do act, to work, to fight the adversities. She resumed her dance, splashing the water in every direction, while her movements showed that peaceful confidence, with which she was to achieve her goal. It _was_ her day, and Whisper was far from letting anyone take it away from her.

Thus occupied, she did not notice a pair of green, almond-shaped eyes, carefully watching her from the peak of a high cliff.

* * *

“ _Sweep again and by then it’s like seven fifteen!”_

It was probably much earlier than the line sang by her suggested.

‘ _Although, who knows,’_ Whisper mused, once more wandering between the odd huts, greeting the Vikings she met on her way. _‘The sun is pretty high already, and the village is certainly much more lively, too...’_

She must have stayed at the beach much longer than she initially had thought.

She smiled gently, joyfully recalling the surroundings in which she was spending her time only half an hour prior. Oh, how good it was to dance on the coast, laugh at the sand and sing to the waves! To the deuce with those awful memories of the storm – after so many days of forgoing herself the pleasure of focusing on her own needs, she finally felt it was a duty she had fulfilled as well. And even though it still wasn’t enough, she was capable of appreciating the gift presented to her by Providence in those few valuable moments.

Of course, she couldn’t have used that gift to the full if it hadn’t been for Gustav’s obliging, cordial attitude. She immediately resolved to search for him as soon as possible and wholeheartedly thank him for the favour he’d rendered.

In the meantime, she was pacing lightly on the narrow streets, inwardly planning the whole upcoming day. She knew that her plans didn’t really depend on her own will, but at least she could choose the order in which she would pester her friends with the constant requests of assigning her for some kind of a job.

Like on the day before, her glare found its way to Berk’s main harbour, and stopped at the furled sails of a small mercantile ship. The port must have been empty at this time; there was probably no one there except the few fishermen coming back from the catch and the potential guard. Maybe she could have a look around and -

“Whisper!”

An enthusiastic shout roused her from her meditation and made her turn towards the person that was calling her. The girl beamed at the sight of a Viking that was running in her direction and nodded at him in greeting.

“Good morning, Fishlegs,” she welcomed, simultaneously giving her friend the time necessary to catch his breath; she’d already learnt that running, even short, was not his particularly strong suit. “It’s good to see you. What are you doing up so early?”

“I could ask you the same thing. How are you today?”

“The best. Really. And I woke up early, I had no reason to lie around when I was perfectly well-rested. And you? What can you say in your defence?”

“I’ve been helping my dad with bread making. Just the family thing.”

Whisper sent him an astonished glare.

“Bread making? But that would mean you’ve been up for -”

“For a good couple of hours. Like if you haven’t been; I saw you through the window.”

“Yes, but -” the brunette hesitated. “I went to bed really early last night.”

“Well, so did I.”

“Are you kidding me? And what about that party you were having at the Great Hall?”

The question clearly flustered the boy, that however only made the Whisper’s determination grow.

“Fishlegs?”

“A party is a pretty big word, you know.” Fishlegs waved his hand, trying to make the gesture look careless. “A little meeting with an old friend of ours, that’s all. I had some additional work to do in the evening, so I’d decided beforehand that I wouldn’t be going anywhere; thanks to that I could go to sleep at a proper hour. Here, that’s my story.”

The way in which the Viking kept drilling the ground with his foot during that speech was another proof that he was not telling her everything; yet, she resolved not to push the matter. Almost immediately, her attention was caught by a bundle he was gripping in his hand.

“Alright then, let’s say I believe you,” she threw in with a friendly contrariness. “But you have to tell me what you’re hiding in there.”

A moment had passed before Fishlegs understood what Whisper had in mind, although apparently, he wasn’t going to keep any more secrets.

“Oh, this. This is for you, actually.” Having said that, he handed her a small package, wrapped in a piece of linen and loosely tied up with a string. “In case you run out of your own.”

Whisper curiously took the packet and opened it. The dark cloth hid a few oblong bits of charcoal, properly plastered to secure the artist’s fingers from unnecessary staining. She smiled widely.

“Thank you kindly, but those you gave me last time will easily serve me for more than a while now.”

“You say so now, but you’ll hardly blink, and you’ll use them all. I’ve heard you’ve been drawing quite a lot lately.”

“When I only can,” she admitted.

“See? Go on, use them as much as you like, and I’ll deliver you the next portion soon. It’s not a particularly valuable thing, after all.” Fishlegs fell silent, thinking. “And if you need paper -”

“Oh, I’m certainly not short of _that_ ,” she hurried with an answer, remembering the stacks piled up next to her bed at the Thorston house. “Don’t worry about that.”

“Perfect. Have you had breakfast already?”

“No, not yet. It’s still early.”

“Good.” Fishlegs nodded, as if he wanted to demonstrate his approval, and then realised he shouldn’t have exactly been doing it. “That is, it’s not good, considering that you’ve been up for so long, but… You know, I’ve just been to the Twins; I’ve left you some bread, some milk, about a dozen eggs -”

“Thanks again, but you really didn’t have to,” Whisper cut him off.

Fishlegs waved his hand again, and this time his sincerity was obvious.

“Tell that to my mum. It was her idea. As soon as she heard it was Ruff and Tuff who were responsible for feeding you, she got so scared that she almost made me bring you to a family dinner – yesterday, and on all the days that follow. Trust me, you wouldn’t want that.”

“That’s very kind of her, but I haven’t been living with the Twins for a day.”

“Maybe not, but mum’s only learned that; now she’ll be trying to catch up and fat you even more. You better accept that breakfast, or otherwise she’ll personally see to it that you eat properly.”

“In that case, I give up.” Chuckling, Whisper raised both of her hands, admitting her defeat. “I’ll take whatever she sends.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. The basket is standing on a shelf, right to the entrance, covered with a pelt. Usually, I wouldn’t leave it with the Twins like that, but they both looked to be fast asleep, so I assumed I could take a risk. Although, you should probably check on them as soon as you can, you never know what those two will come up with.”

“You think they would bolt it all without me?”

“Unfortunately, the Twins’ creativity goes far beyond eating someone else’s meal.”

She grinned, silently agreeing with the boy. She really should come back home; it would be a shame if the delivery, prepared so carefully by Mrs Ingerman ended up as a toy in one of her hosts’ crazy games. She resolved to go there with no further delay – she would only call by the smithery…

Or maybe she didn’t have to?

“Fishlegs,” she opened again. “Do you know if Gustav is in the forge already?”

“He’s not, and from what I know, he won’t be there at all today. It seems that Hiccup found some sort of a special task for him for today, and sent him off in the very morn. He won’t be back to Berk until the evening, maybe later.”

“Oh,” the girl blurted out, plainly disappointed with the news. “I see. Well, I’ll find him when he’s back.”

“Something’s wrong?” her companion asked carefully, mildly worried. “Is there anything special you need?”

“Oh, no, not at all. I need to have a word with him, but it can wait.”

“But he’s behaving well?”

“Absolutely.” She laughed cordially, noticing the blonde man’s concern. “He helped me a lot recently; really, you should have more faith in him, too.”

She felt the next wave of hunger, and decided it was time to say goodbye.

“I’d better go,” she added half apologetically. “Maybe I’ll manage to save the breakfast.”

She was gone next moment. Without looking back, she was running in a brisk trot to the wooden hut she’d involuntarily started to call her home, amazed by another act of benevolence that she had just experienced. She might have been struggling with fear and nightmares, and yet she knew that her new friends would not let her fall. They provided for her, they looked after her – and with every new day she felt she was more attached to them.

On one hand, it roused in her an obvious anxiety – on the other, nothing could improve her mood more than the knowledge that there was someone who cared for her, and for whom she cared herself.

Tired but happy, she eventually stopped in front of the Thorston house’s door, and panting heavily, she leaned on the wall right next to it. There was a smile on her face, a smile she was not going to suppress, while a youthful, even childlike enthusiasm was twinkling in her eyes. She pressed her hand to her breast, trying to calm down the irregular breathing, not wanting to come inside in such a state. She wasn’t able to move as quietly and unobtrusively as usually at the moment, so if she had stepped into the hut now, she undoubtedly would have woken the Twins up from their blissful sleep.

While she was waiting, she heard a flapping of large dragon wings above her, and reflexively shifted her gaze in the direction from which the sound was coming. The Night Fury’s graceful silhouette scudded before her eyes, soon landing on a path just a few huts away from where she was standing. Whisper froze. She could still sneak into the house unnoticed – however, if she wanted the plan to be successful, she would have to do the manoeuvre incredibly quickly, and then she could as much as forget trying to keep any pretence of silence.

She would not hide from them, would she?

She saw Hiccup unbuckle his prosthetic from the saddle mechanism and resolutely dismount the dragon. He was standing with his back turned to her, preoccupied with his talk with the Viking who had left the house to greet him.

Even though the Rider was paying her no mind, his dragon was doing something entirely opposite. Toothless was staring at her questioningly, as if he’d been taken aback by her sight and the position in which he had found her.

Whisper put her finger on her mouth, ordering him to remain silent, and hoping the creature would understand her request. The dragon titled his head, astonished, but didn’t make a single sound; then he turned back towards his Rider. Had it not been for their mute conversation from a moment ago, the girl would be ready to believe that Toothless did not realise her presence at all.

Hiccup followed his interlocutor, and disappeared inside the hut. Without waiting for the opportunity to pass, Whisper did the same.

She had been in a grave mistake assuming that her hosts were still laying in the loving arms of Morpheus; as soon as she’ crossed the threshold, she was welcomed by the excited shouts of the siblings, who apparently hadn’t thought of sleep for a long time now.

Ruffnut waved her hand in an inviting gesture, in case her companion wouldn’t have thought of coming closer herself. She was bending over a big basket that stood on the floor, occasionally whacking the head of her brother or the green dragon that was staying behind them, depending on who of them was currently sidling towards the valuable package.

“Glad you’re back, a minute later and those mutton heads would’ve got to you breakfast,” she threw in in a lieu of a greeting, rolling her eyes in a theatrical manner.

“Whisper! You won’t believe what happened,” Tuff cried out in his turn, clearly thrilled with the situation. “Odin must like you a lot, because when we were sleeping, he sent the trolls with a whole box of food for you!”

“Those weren’t trolls, you moron,” his sister bridled. “Odin doesn’t hire trolls.”

“No? Who does he hire, then?”

“He’s got his ways, and none of them is your business.”

“Whatever -” The young man decided not to prolong the discussion, and instead, he turned back to Whisper. “there’s plenty of food in here, and it’s all yours. Look, there’s even a note: _Ruff, Tuff, hands off the basket._ ” He read out loud almost proudly. “See? Totally awesome. There are eggs, yak’s milk, even Mrs Ingerman’s famous pie!”

“Oh, really?” Whisper raised her eyebrows, pretending to be sincerely surprised. “And what it Mrs Ingerman’s pie doing in a gift from Odin?”

“Are you kidding?” the Viking blurted, offended by his friend’s scepticism. “There’s no way you can mistake that pie. It is food of the gods, I tell you! I’m sure Thor himself feasts on it whenever he gets the chance.”

“I concur with your statement, dear brother,” Ruffnut sighed, placing her hand on her stomach. “Honestly, if there’s one thing in Berk’s cuisine that’s actually worth living here, it’s this.”

“I see.” With a ghost of a smile wandering around her face, Whisper peered into the basket, and frowned immediately after. The pie she found inside was huge, but what was more, it was not the only surprise that had been awaiting her – except for it and the supplies already mentioned by Fishlegs, the bottom of the container was covered with at least a dozen of apples, cheese, a pot of curd and… a hen. Plucked, prepared, yet still in one piece – a hen.

‘ _And he said he would only bring some bread…’_ she thought, wondering what she would have to do to make the Vikings stop spoiling her with their gifts. On the other had, if her assumptions were correct – and everything she’d seen so far seemed to confirm them – Mrs Ingerman simply was a type of a person who finds pleasure in taking care of others, especially when it comes to feeding them. In such a case, all of her qualms could be thrown away at once.

“You haven’t had breakfast yet either, I suppose?” she asked eventually, taking some of the basket’s contents out of it, and laying them on the table.

“Yes, and we’re hungry as Helheim because of it,” Tuffnut answered decidedly, glaring at the pie longingly. “Hey, do you think you might treat us a little with that present of yours?”

“Well, I won’t eat all of it by myself, will I?” Whisper laughed. “Just don’t touch the pie, we’ll save it for a dessert. For now, I need a bowl, a frying-pan and a spoon. I could use some salt, too.”

“Woah, easy there, sister. We don’t have the best memories concerning that thing.”

“That sounds like another great story.”

“To each their own, I’d say. What do you want to do?”

“Just some scrambled eggs. And a lot of it. Ruff, can you help me with this?”

In less than a second, the fair-haired woman found her companion’s side, handing all of the necessary dishes and spices to her; Tuffnut didn’t waste his time, either, running around them and asking what he could do to make the breakfast appear on their table even sooner. At last he was seconded by his vexed sister, and ordered to take care of the fireplace – a task he carried out with a stubbornness and attention absolutely incredible for his usual standards. Unfortunately, it did not mean he would close his mouth for a minute.

“Alright, so what do I do? Oh, right, the fire. Where is the brushwood? Don’t answer that, I’ll figure it out… Yes! There it is. Now all we need to do is pile it and… Ruff, where do we keep all those twigs? Outside? No, wait, there’s something in here – nope, that’s just Uncle Halvar’s old prosthetic. Maybe it’s better not to burn it. By the way, how is he doing? I haven’t seen him since he ate all that Dragon Nip, and put out to sea with nothing but his shirt, and without his peg leg. Wait, that’s why it’s here? We took it from him? Eh, whatever, Uncle Halvar always did pretty well without that thing.”

Ruffnut slapped her hand against her forehead, incapable of commenting her twin’s meaningless speech in any other way – at least she no longer had to worry about Whisper’s reaction, as the latter had already got used to the antics of the both of them. The brunette remained silent at the moment, focusing on the onion she was chopping, fighting the stinging in her eyes which unluckily for her couldn’t be separated from that job.

“Here, there’s the brushwood, there are the twigs, all perfectly arranged. It looks like no explosion is coming, although we all know that weird things happen in this house. Should I fire it? Barf, Belch, come here, and show them how it’s done. No tricks please, we still have a guest around. Come on, move those four legs of yours! Oh hi, Heather. You’ve popped in for breakfast?”

Both Ruffnut and Whisper answered his final statement with an abrupt turn towards the entrance. Right there, rested on the door frame, stood a slender, raven-haired girl, and watched the whole scene with a slightly ironic grin spreading on her face; it was clear she’d been standing there unnoticed for quite some time now. Whisper, whose eyes had already had enough time to water, couldn’t look at the stranger properly, yet something in the girl’s general appearance made her lose the easiness she had felt so far.

In the meantime, Heather pushed off from the frame and approached them readily.

“Thanks, I’ve already eaten,” she answered firmly. “You’re up early. I didn’t think you’d manage to get up before noon, not after what you drank last night.”

“Hey, I’m clean,” Ruffnut protested. “He is the one experimenting.”

“Let’s say so. Tuff, what was in that drink, exactly?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Probably not.”

“It tasted worse than Yaknog, and this time it’s not a metaphor,” the other twin giggled, shaping her face in a disgusted grimace.

“I’ve never had a chance to try that legendary potion, but I think I know what you mean.”

“Lucky you. Your friendship with Astrid would have ended before you’d take the first sip.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Heather snorted, apparently not finding the last comment funny. She turned towards the girl who was the real reason for her coming there. “You must be Whisper.”

The brunette nodded in confirmation. Heather reached out her arm for a handshake, immediately causing the other girl to feel better. With a sigh of relief, Whisper took the hand that had been offered to her, simultaneously wiping her wet eyes with the sleeve on her free arm. Her new acquaintance chuckled quietly.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, it’s… It’s just the onions.”

“You know, my brother always says there’s only one way you can avoid tears during this kind of work.”

“And that is?”

“Don’t get emotionally involved.” The warrior sent her another smile and shifted her attention to the Twins. “Listen guys, how about you take Barf and Belch, and bring some more fuel wood? Your shed is practically empty, and it seems like it may start raining any moment; you won’t find anything good enough for firing tomorrow. I’ll stay here, and help with all those culinary preparations -” she turned to Whisper, realising that her offer might not be taken that willingly. “Unless you don’t mind, of course.”

“Not at all.” Whisper shook her head, and more quietly, she added, “There will always be a use for some wood, and I’ll spend enough time with them anyway.”

Heather laughed, and more resolutely this time, she expelled both the Twins and their dragon from their own hut. Having closed the door after them, she spun around on her heel, and gave Whisper a highly disbelieving glare.

“I’m not even trying to understand how you can survive living under the same roof with them.”

“That’s no big deal. You’re friends with them yourself.”

“Yes, but if had to share a house with them, someone would end up with more than one broken rib.”

“I flatter myself to be a pretty patient person.”

“I don’t think anyone could doubt that.”

There was so much admiration in the newcomer’s voice, that her interlocutor couldn’t do much more than look away, grinning thankfully. On the contrary, the leader of the Berserker’s Island didn’t take her eyes off her even for a moment.

‘ _Good Freya, you really are pretty. Even in those nasty old rags. Maybe it’s better that Hiccup doesn’t see it.’_

“So, how can I help you?” she asked out loud.

“There isn’t much left to be done, frankly. There’s no point in heating anything before the Twins come back, and we’ve already prepared everything else. I just need to finish with those onions.”

Heather gave a nod, and involuntarily, she started to look around the room. Her attention was caught by a stack of papers, spread on a bed that stood nearby.

“Are those yours?” she asked, pointing at them.

“Yes. Nothing special, just a few sketches, most of them barely started.”

“May I…?”

“Sure, go on.” Whisper’s smile gained a look of an invitation. “Just please, don’t expect too much. You won’t find anything spectacular in there.”

Her companion thought otherwise, however, and it was enough for her to glance at the drawings in her hands to know that she was dealing with no ordinary skills. True, only a small part of the sketches was finished but even those early stages showed signs of an uncommon talent.

More than once Heather had had a chance to examine the drawings made by Hiccup, and she was pretty good with a charcoal herself but this – this was something more. The longer she stared at them, the more convinced she was that her first impression was right.

One of the sketches arrested her attention more than the others. She stopped to eye it carefully, shifting her gaze from the sheet to the girl standing in front of her, and then back to the drawing itself.

She might have just come up with a very interesting idea.

“What’s the matter?” Whisper raised her brows, not understanding her interlocutor’s behaviour; Heather only shook her head, prolonging the silence for a few additional moments.

“Nothing,” she explained at last. “It’s just something that came to my mind. You’re good.”

Whisper didn’t respond, not wanting to show the signs of fake modesty. She was happy to see the other woman’s appreciation – yet, she certainly did not expect to receive the question she was asked a short while later.

“Could I borrow one of your works? I promise to give it back intact.”

“Yes, of course,” she answered, slightly dazed. “But please, just take it. I’m not that much attached to those works, you don’t need to give them back. However, may I ask, what would you need them for?”

“I told you, I’ve got an idea. Now, let’s get down to the real business: What do you think of Berk?”


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 12**

“ **Y** **ou’ll lose both your heads and hearts for her – all three of you.”**

_I get by with a little help from my friends_   
_I get high with a little help from my friends_   
_Gonna try with a little help from my friends_

* * *

“Boriiiiiing!”

Tuffnut threw his arms up in the air, and bracing his feet against the underside of the table, he leaned back rapidly, hanging with his head down and almost hitting it against the Great Hall floor as a result. His friends ignored the quirk; even Whisper, who was sitting the closest to him, only glanced in his direction to make sure the boy didn’t hurt himself, and then returned to her own occupation with no further delay.

After three weeks she’d spent in the Twins’ company, _even she_ had gotten used to their eccentric way of being.

“I’m bored…” the Viking called out again, remaining in the same extraordinary position. “Why doesn’t anything ever happen? Why don’t _we_ make anything happen?”

“Actually, there’s a huge room for action, only we can’t really use it in that rain,” Fishlegs muttered from across the table, sighing with resignation. “It’s a shame Hiccup doesn’t have anything we could do inside, but annoyingly enough, we finished all of those _domestic works_ last week.”

“Wow,” Tuff answered him, finally lifting himself to a sitting position. “Did I just hear Fishlegs complain that we’d managed to do something on time?”

“Sounded like it,” his sister agreed, glaring at the corpulent Viking with a provocative smirk. “That’s new for sure.”

Fishlegs flushed under her gaze, and looking away, he blurted, “That’s not what I meant. We scheduled the work badly, and now it’s backfiring at us. If we had repaired those pens earlier -”

“You didn’t have the materials,” Whisper interrupted him. “The wood that Johann brought from the Berserkers turned out not to be what you needed, and they had to run another course, remember? You did the _domestic works_ waiting for Gustav to come back to Berk with a new supply.”

During her speech, she didn’t tear her gaze away from a sheet that was laying on her lap, and which she was carefully covering with more and more sketches. Both Fishlegs and the Twins stared at her with silent admiration, to the point when she herself had to look up at them; a mixture of astonishment and curiosity reflected on her face.

“What is it?”

“It’s incredible how well versed you are in everything that’s going on in Berk, especially when it comes to those never-ending repairs,” the young Ingerman explained. “First, how do you even get to know about our plans? And second, how do you manage to remember it so well? I don’t think I’ve seen you confuseanything yet.”

“I’ve got my eyes, my ears, and enough time and will to use them. Plus, Gustav talks a lot.”

“That’s one thing for sure.” The blonde man smiled piteously.

“Besides, you guys aren’t particularly secretive about your intents – now, for example – so you can’t grumble at neither Gustav, or me. I can’t help my memory, either, it looks like it simply is that good – as ironic as it may seem.”

She raised the drawing to her eye level, scanned it quickly and, satisfied, she put it away, laying it on the bench next to her, where a fair stack of sketches was standing. She took them all in her hands now, and quietly began to file them according to a key no one, except her, understood.

The rain was whipping, banging against the door of the Great Hall, pushed by the gale that seemed to get stronger with every passing moment. Inside, there was no one except them; no doubt the rest of the Vikings preferred to spend this chill evening in the small circles of their own families. In comparison to such a picture, the Great Hall might have appeared empty and unfriendly in its largeness – yet for the four friends gathered in it, it was as perfect as the cosiest shelter of the family hut.

Tuffnut yawned lingeringly.

“It is so boring that I almost regret that Johann has left,” he stated, stretching out. “That guy himself is as dull as Helheim, but at least there was someone to laugh at. And now Johann is gone, Snotlout is gone, and Gustav can’t be mocked, because Whisper won’t allow it.”

“We can always mock you.” Ruffnut bared her teeth in a grin, looking at her brother.

The boy only waved his hand.

“Eh, that’s not the same thing. I mean, we both know it will end up like this anyway but it would be nice to prank someone else in the meantime. How about we take Whisper in?”

His helmet wobbled, when the fair-haired warrior struck him on the head with all her strength.

“Ouch! What’s wrong? Can’t we prank anybody now? Whose side are you on?”

“Certainly not yours, mutton head.”

“You can trifle with me as much as you like.” Whisper looked up from her works eventually, and gave the siblings a warm, yet slightly mischievous smile. “Or at least you can try. I can’t promise you I’ll be taken in easily.”

“You really don’t know what you’re signing up for,” Fishlegs said in response.

The brunette could only laugh, not seeing a reason for which she should maintain the subject and instead, shook her head and added, “I don’t understand your resentment for Johann. He’s so likeable, and had so much to say!”

Ruffnut snorted.

“The point is that if Johann starts talking, he won’t stop until somebody forces him to. You’re new here, so it’s still exciting for you, but trust me – after twenty years of listening to his ravings, even you would have had enough.”

“I think his stories are fantastic.”

“You know, _fantastic_ is a very good word,” Fishlegs threw in carelessly. “I’d be seriously impressed if one third of his stories turned out to be true.”

“Are you kidding?” Ruff chimed in. “I’ll have my hand cut off if he proves one of them to be so.”

Whisper shook her head again, hardly surprised by her companions’ opinions, or their readiness to part with particular chunks of their bodies – a readiness that fully depended on their current needs and desires.

Meanwhile, her friend went on with her speech; “I definitely won’t miss Johann, but it’s a shame that Heather went home. Her presence always does the village some good, even Hiccup behaves like a sane man. Well, almost.”

“And that Razorwhip...” Tuffnut added in a dreamy voice. “Yeah, but Heather’s okay, too. Why doesn’t she live with us anymore? She did on the Edge.”

“Because she’s got her own village to run, you idiot.” Ruff rolled her eyes. “She’s the ruler there now. It’s like if you wanted Hiccup to move in there.”

“Yeah, but it’s Dagur who’s the Chief, right?”

“So what, you think Heather lets him decide about anything? Come on, bro.”

“You know, he _had been_ leading the Berserkers before she even moved in.”

“Oh, yes. That was also when he was trying to destroy Berk, steal the Dragon Eye, and kill us off. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like going through all of this again.”

“Hey, guys!” They were at last interrupted by Fishlegs, shouting at them almost desperately. Seeing Whisper’s eyebrows go up in an amused astonishment, he now turned directly towards her, “Sorry, I bet the Twins forget that you wouldn't know about all of those details.”

“Not all, but I’ve just learned some new ones.”

“You have managed to fit in so well, that soon, we'll forget you’re not from here.”

“That’s not true.” The girl looked away, abashed with this obviously false praise. “It’s really flattering to hear it, but let’s be honest, it will never be like that. I don’t even think it should be.”

“Why not? In the long run -”

“I won’t stay here, Fishlegs,” she stated calmly. “It’s awfully nice to be here with you, but you know as well as I do that it’s not where I belong. I don’t know where I came from, or how to find my way back, but I still believe that one day I will find out; and when I do, I’ll do everything I can to return home.”

Lost in thought, she fixed her sight on the table, while the smile on her face slowly faltered.

“You’re great, all of you. But I… I miss them, Fishlegs. Even though I can’t really tell who I miss and why I miss them, I do. There’s some kind of emptiness in me, and it won’t be filled with any kindness, any story, any discovery. I don’t know what I must do to get rid of it, but I need to do something; otherwise, I’ll spend the rest of my life feeling incomplete. And you just can’t live like this.”

Fishlegs wanted to answer and had even opened his mouth ready to do so, however, he was interrupted when the doors of the Great Hall were swung open with a bang, letting inside the sounds of the howling wind and the hissing of rain, which had been muffled by the wooden surface so far.

The entire group quite literally jumped in surprise, dragged away from their tasks by the unexpected noise. After a moment the gates closed again, and they were finally able to recognise the slouched silhouette of Snotlout, who was now resting against it, with Hookfang standing right next to him.

Four pairs of eyes followed the duo as they made their way to the lightened table. It took them much more time than they would have spent in more casual circumstances; Snotlout was definitely uneasy – clearly tired, he was scuffing his feet, slowly approaching his destination with a lowered head and arms loosely hanging along his body. His loyal mount kept pushing him forward from time to time, not exactly delicate in his doing, but the exhausted Viking didn’t even care too much at the moment.

Besides, it was quite possible that if it hadn’t been for the Monstrous Nightmare’s nudges, the boy would have stopped just where he was, and either stood there motionlessly, or fell on the ground face down – in both cases, his moving would have depended on the help of the third party.

During all that time not a single word was spoken – even when the pair had finally reached the table, nobody dared to break the silence with meaningless greetings. Snotlout took his seat on the side which until now had been occupied by no one except Fishlegs and as soon as he did, he collapsed on the counter almost completely limply, hitting the hard surface with his forehead, finding the strength to do nothing more than cover his head with his hands, and groaned miserably.

The next second Tuffnut was bending over him, jabbing the Viking in different parts of his body with growing interest, all while listening carefully in anticipation of an answer; only it didn’t come.

“Hey, Snot, you alive?” he kept asking impatiently; eventually, he waved his hand and resigned, he sighed. “Sorry guys, he’s gone. Totally _kaput_. What can I say, we’ve got a dead man here. Shame, he was always so easy to prank. Well, the Fortune works in mysterious ways, and we, mortals, are in no way able -”

“Tuff,” Fishlegs interrupted quietly. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but Snotlout doesn’t really look dead to me.”

“Oh? And how do _you_ know?” his interlocutor bridled.

“Because he’s breathing much too loudly.”

Indeed, Snotlout’s shoulder blades were rising and falling rhythmically as he breathed the air in and out. The expression on Tuffnut’s face dropped a little when he realised his thesis had been so brutally – and so easily – refuted.

However, before he’d managed to say anything in his defence, Snotlout jerked up, beating his fists against the table as he shouted, “I’m gonna kill that guy!”

All of his companions’ eyes widened, taken aback with this sudden declaration, and for a moment only Hookfang seemed to understand this unexpected explosion of rage.

“As I live and breathe, _I will kill him!_ Gustav was supposed to get the wood from the Berserkers, right? He didn’t. He went to their island again – and what? He sent a T-mail saying that he can’t find himself in all this, and that he needs further instructions. And you know what, fine! I thought he could already take care of such a trifle job, but I get it – he’s never done that before, and there’s such a jumble in there that even Heather hardly catches on. So I say to myself: okay, the kid messed up a little, but Hiccup will scribble a few lines of explanation, and all will be well again. _But, no...!_ His Highness, the Chief, decides that such writing won’t help, and that someone simply has to go there and personally sort it out. Only, of course, he can’t do it, because he has so much work to do here on Berk, blah, blah, blah. It’s better to send Snotlout, _who has just come back home after chasing some little thief!_ Yes, of course! Snotlout, always Snotlout! How bad he never thinks of me when I could do something more pleasant than wading in mud and dirt because of His Highness’ whims!"

The Viking realised that he wandered a little too far from the main point of his speech, and despite the relief this incoherent whining was giving him, he resolved to get back to it. It obviously didn’t mean he would stop complaining.

“But fine, I flew to Berserker Island. It was perhaps better to have someone there, as we’re already behind with practically everything, and I’m sick of listening to Hiccup’s never-ending comments. So I’m on my way, and before me I see Gustav and hear him shout that the problem is solved, and that I can go back to Berk immediately; he was actually surprised that we hadn’t got the message, because he’d sent it on the previous day. And that’s how it is with this _hiccupy overeagerness_ as Dagur always calls it, that we all tire in vain – and speaking of Dagur, he’s probably even more deranged than usual, so you’d better pray to the gods that he doesn’t set to visit.

“Anyway, I landed on that crazy land to make sure that everything was alright. I checked on the supplies, and this time it looked like everything was fine for real. They were only supposed to pack it, but that was not my job. I mounted Hookie, and we raced back home to pass the good news to our beloved Chief – and he almost scolded me for daring to come alone! It turned out that the message from Gustav had arrived in time, only Hiccup had concluded that it was better to send me to make sure. _And yet, for all this time, he hadn’t said a word about it!_ And, behold, _he ordered me to return to that wretched island as soon as I could!_ Can you believe it?! And when I asked him if I could at least take a nap before the flight, he told me to quote unquote “give up that sarcastic attitude and start treating my duties more seriously” and that “it’s not his fault that against my common sense I decided to fly there and back again when I didn’t have a reason for it.” _I didn’t have a reason._ Like, what was I doing, sightseeing?

“I swear, I have never in my life wanted to punch that pretty face of his so much as I did then. And I would have, really, if Hookfang hadn’t dragged me away by force. Before Hiccup turned around we were gone. I thought I’d rather spend those few hours on the way there, and ask the Berserkers to give me a place to sleep than listen to his grumbling for another minute.”

Silence fell on the Great Hall – yet it was only for a moment.

“Wow,” Ruffnut broke it. “And Hookfang let you do this? You may be tired, but he was the one flying back and forth all this time.”

“Hookfang is just as mad as I am. He doesn’t even feels like taunting me.”

“Well, Ladies and Vikings, that really is something. Hiccup made the impossible happen, and he didn’t even mean to do it.”

Snotlout gave her a most resentful glare, apparently affronted by her careless tone.

“Not funny,” he muttered.

“It wasn’t supposed to be.” The girl shrugged. “Believe it or not,  not everything I say is meant to cause your guffaw.”

“At least we know what’s been going on,” her brother interrupted the conversation. “We’ve been wondering what had happened to you for the last four days – but, wait a second. If you were here in the meantime, how come nobody saw you?”

“Probably because I came here in the middle of the night,” Snotlout snorted. “I thought I’d made myself clear.”

“When did you come back?”

“About two hours ago. Unpacking all of that junk took a while, and we had to pile and secure it, too.”

“Now?!” Fishlegs cried out involuntarily, positively taken aback with the last news. “In this rain?!”

“Why, you think we should have left them on boats, since they were already secured for the journey? Come on, that would’ve been almost logical, and His Highness hasn’t been having a lot of reasonable ideas lately. So yeah, I’m soaking wet, exhausted, and honestly speaking, the only thing I can dream of right now is a bed and about twenty four blankets as a cover. That might help; only with my luck, my cranky cousin will get here any moment, making me fly to some gods forsaken place at the edge of the world, just because he’ll think it will turn out useful at some point.”

“Snotlout,” Whisper answered him suddenly, reaching across the table and placing her hand on top of his clenched fist. “Have you eaten anything today?”

She was staring at him with a calm and confident look, with a kind of warm that so strongly featured her general attitude; the young Jorgenson felt fully disconcerted. Also, her question seemed to him to be so remote from the topic they had been discussing that he needed a few moments to put together some sort of a coherent answer.

“Ye… Yes. In the morning,” he stuttered, and then with a tang of irony in his voice, he added, “Just don’t tell His Highness, because technically speaking, I didn’t exactly have his permission for that, either.”

Whisper made no comment on his last statement; instead, she retrieved her hand, stood up, and headed towards one of the distant corners, leaving the Dragon Riders to themselves for a while. They all automatically followed her with their eyes – after a moment however, they were all deep in conversation again, of which Snotlout’s groaning remained the most significant part. The girl stayed away for a good few minutes, although her agitated friends paid no or little mind to it.

When she appeared within the eyeshot, she was carrying a bowl and a mug, and steaming content in both of those dishes.

She approached the table from the side where her soaked friend was sitting, and not stopping to smile, she put them in front of him. Snotlout looked at her, surprised, as if he couldn’t understand what he was supposed to do with the meal that had just been offered to him.

The brunette grinned even more widely.

“Yak milk and some rabbit stew. Not the best combination, but at least it’s hot. I’m really sorry there’s so little of it… If we’d known you would come back today, we would have saved some more.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Ruff whispered in a conspiratorial manner. “She would have just given you her own meal, and she eats as much as a ten year old already. It’s better that you didn’t let us know.”

“Stop it,” Whisper cut her off, clearly feeling uncomfortable for the second time this evening from hearing a compliment she didn’t feel she deserved. Instead of arguing with her friend, however, she glanced at Snotlout again; she put her hand on his shoulder, and pointed the bowl with the other. “Please, enjoy your meal in peace. We won’t let Hiccup take you before you eat and sleep off that whole nonsensical race.”

Having said that, she returned to her previous seat, and explaining no more, she once again focused on filing her own works.

All this time Snotlout stared at her completely dumbfounded. It wasn’t like Whisper had done anything extraordinary – she guessed that after all of his “adventures” he could be hungry, and did her best to find a way to fix it. That, however, was the most incredible thing about her: he hadn’t asked her for that favour, moreover, in his resentful, bitter speech he hadn’t for once mentioned that particular inconvenience – and yet, the girl managed to surmise what it was he really needed and make sure he would get it.

He started to eat, still not taking his eyes off her. All in all, after he’d cooled off from the initial shock, her behaviour didn’t surprise him in the least. Just like all of Whisper’s friends, he had already had time to recognise her virtues, among which her concern of another person’s being was especially vivid – and like the rest of his friends, he was absolutely charmed. Also, he was perfectly aware of his state.

Heather had laughed at them, saying that Whisper had taken Berk under her undisputed reign – and there might have been truth in her words. The entire situation looked completely different than anything they may have assumed. Snotlout couldn’t forget Hiccup’s teasing remark, voiced even before the young Chief had had a chance to meet the dark-haired woman in person: _“Y_ _ou’ll lose both your heads and hearts for her – all three of you.”_ In a way, his foresight turned out to be true, too – only Whisper’s personality had proved to enchant not only three or four people, but almost an entire island, regardless of the person’s age, profession or gender. And that was just more evidence of how much their case differed from everything they’d had a chance to experience so far.

It wasn’t just about going after a pretty face, but about appreciating the interest and sympathy, with which the Vikings had been gifted by their guest from the start.

When Heather first appeared on the Isle of Berk, neither Astrid or Ruffnut showed much enthusiasm in their interactions with her. Now, Ruff seemed to think the world of her new friend, to the point where she started to subconsciously imitate her. She still didn’t hesitate to beat up her own brother – or anyone else whom she considered to be violating her rights too much – she could still make a snappy comeback at her interlocutor, but even despite all that, the change was significant. For instance, Ruff shouted less. Of course, she was nowhere near Whisper’s elegant way of being, but to be fair, Snotlout wasn’t sure that he would want to see such a drastic alteration.

Without her natural, uncontrollable internal fire, she wouldn’t have truly been herself. She wouldn’t have been the Ruffnut whom he… _valued_ so much.

Speaking of which, something was telling him that if Astrid had still been among them, she too would have welcomed Whisper most enthusiastically, and who knows? Maybe it would have even resulted in a quite solid friendship.

Never in his life would he share his observations with Hiccup, that however could in no way affect his own personal beliefs.

Then again – had Astrid still been on Berk, Hiccup himself would have acted in an entirely different way.

‘ _Tha_ _t guy is completely blind,’_ he thought, resigned. He was certain that if their Chief had allowed to be endowed with the kindness they had been witnessing for so many days now, his state would have improved almost immediately. Whisper had a special gift of soothing the pain – maybe if Hiccup had let her come a little closer to him, she would have healed him, too.

He finished his hot milk, wondering whether the feeling of warmth spreading over his whole body was a result of the meal he’d just had – or maybe it was caused by the goodness with which it had been prepared.

Snotlout put his mug on the table with a thud, emphasising that he had finished his uncommonly late dinner. He stretched out, inhaled deeply, and with a serene, yet tired smile, he stated, “Whisper, you are an angel.”

The girl ignored his enthusiastic sigh.

“I’m serious. Is there anything I can do for you in return?”

“Yes, go home, change into some dry clothes and go to bed. Right now.”

“Hey, I’m serious.”

“So am I. Snotlout, for the past three weeks you’ve been feeding, hosting, dressing me even.” She gave them all that grateful glare they had seen so many times already. “For once I had a chance to repay you in kind. To be honest, it gives me more pleasure than any sort of sacrifice on your side.”

“From what I can recall, it’s been _you_ feeding _us_ for this past month,” Tuffnut confuted her argument, gesturing at Ruffnut and himself. “You nourish us three times a day, and I’m pretty sure you’ve cooked for the rest a few times as well.”

“Still it is you who deliver the ingredients.” Whisper grinned a bit teasingly, not going to yield without fight; here however, Fishlegs decided to join the discussion.

“Whisper, it doesn’t work like that. According to your standards you should sow and reap the grain, fish, build the house you’re living in, all by yourself. A tribe has its own rules – everyone here does what they can do best, share their work and benefits from the work of others.”

“But I don’t do -”

“Don’t do anything? Who darned all of Tuffnut’s trousers? Who equipped Ruff with two new tunics? Who helped my aunt prepare that terrifyingly huge dinner? Trust me, you made it even a long time ago.”

The brunette rolled her eyes, but said no more.

“Can we just agree that there’s no need to bring this up again?” Fishlegs prompted, looking expectantly at her. “Please?”

Whisper glanced at him, plainly not desiring to give up just yet. She felt that she shouldn’t give in to her friends’ persuasions, convinced that her debt to them could not be settled with those few favours she had so far managed to do. Before she had a chance to voice her thoughts out loud, Snotlout took the floor, ruining all of her defences with a simple declaration of his.

“If you wish, I can yield and not insist on repaying you for the meal,” he stated in a most serious manner, as if he was about to make a sacrifice nobody had ever heard of. “If only that will make you feel better, that’s exactly what I will do.”

The girl froze for a moment before laughing cordially, almost forgetting her resolution to stick to her claims. The rest of the group followed suit, bursting into laughter a moment later, leaving Snotlout to be the only one who didn’t understand what had caused such mirth. Whisper was the first to notice it, and without prolonging, she turned to the confused Viking.

“Thank you, I really appreciate that.”

“So we’re good?”

“We are. But I still insist you go to sleep as soon as you can!”

“Fine, fine.” Snotlout raised his arms in surrender, and chuckled himself. “You can consider us gone. Hookfang, you heard that! We’re going home.”

However, the massive dragon didn’t seem so eager to carry out his Rider’s orders, and only grunted meaningfully. Snotlout furrowed his brows, wondering what his companion had in mind this time, and it took him additional few moments – and a few clearer signals from the latter – before the boy realised what Hookfang had been trying to tell him.

He slapped his forehead, and with new enthusiasm, he turned to his friend.

“Of course! I completely forgot that I had a parcel for you from Heather!”

Paying no mind to the suddenly confounded expressions of the gathered, he waved at Hookfang, and pulled out a fairly big package from one of the saddlebags. He grimaced with dislike, having felt water on the leather in which the mysterious delivery was wrapped, and then laid it gently on the wooden surface of the table. Whisper made no comment.

“Well, whatever this is, I hope it didn’t get wet,” Snotlout added a little less cheerfully. “Those bags can usually stand a pretty heavy fall of water, but with that storm going on…”

“Eh, who cares,” Tuff interrupted him with a snort. “Whispers, what’s in there?”

“You don’t have to answer,” Fishlegs said before she’d managed to respond. “Tuffnut, it is not our business to know what is hidden in the package. It’s been addressed to Whisper, and unless she decides to tell you what it is she got, you have no right to pester her about it.”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s like reading somebody else’s mail!”

“Yeah? So what?”

Fishlegs sighed heavily, once again realising that what the rest of the world saw as the basic rules of etiquette, the Twins considered to be just another nonsensical ban.

Although obviously, he would never let this belief reach Ruffnut’s ears.

The fair-haired woman stood still, furrowing; lost in thoughts, she couldn’t decide where to fix her sight, which resulted in her shifting it from the package to Whisper and back again, while her glare became more and more nervous with every passing second.

“Were you expecting this?” she uttered eventually.

Her friend looked at her and shook her head in denial.

“Oh, right, so it’s a surprise gift,” Ruff muttered. “That’s nice of her. I didn’t know you guys were so close.”

Whisper was still glaring at her, yet Ruffnut did not return the gaze. In her expression, in her voice there was some kind of grudge, or better said – disappointment, which however, Whisper couldn’t explain in any way.

“The point is, we’re not,” she answered hesitantly, just as surprised with this sudden plot twist. “We only really talked once, when she cast you out from the house. I still don’t understand why she did that, we didn’t talk about anything important. I told her about my feelings towards Berk, and showed her my sketches, because for some reason she found them interesting… Snotlout, are you sure the package was sent to me?”

“Positively sure,” her interlocutor confirmed. “She gave it to me personally, and told me to make sure you use the content well.”

“But you don’t know what’s inside?”

“Quote unquote: _“A_ _little present from a friendly tribe, totally practical, meant for an everyday use.”_ I have no idea what she meant by that, so don’t ask.”

“I guess the most logical thing to do would be to just unpack it,” the girl sighed, and carefully touched the string the parcel was tied up with, still not capable of forcing herself to undo the finely made knots.

‘ _I shouldn’t be doing this,’_ a thought crossed her mind as she was staring at the soaked leather. _‘I_ _shouldn’t be accepting this… I can’t.’_

Indeed – had she been sparring with her friends just a few minutes earlier, persisting that she did not deserve their help… only to enjoy a gift from an almost unknown person a moment later? Who was she to Heather to be gifted with such favours? Who was Heather to her that she should accept them? No, she was not to take that gift.

“Actually,” Snotlout roused her from her meditation, “maybe it’s better if you do all that at home.”

The entire group fixed their gazes on him.

The Viking shrugged, and waved his hand at the entrance.

“It looks like there’s a break in the storm. Do you hear that? It’s quiet. No thunder, hardly any rain, and we can’t be sure how long it will last and when it will happen again. It would be pretty dumb not to use it, wouldn’t it?”

His companions nodded in unison, and eagerly started to clean off the table they’d been occupying for the whole evening.

When they finally made it to the threshold, Snotlout leaned over the brunette that was standing next to him, and smiling, he mumbled, “Again, thanks for the dinner. I don’t think I knew how hungry I was.”

Whisper rolled her eyes.

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on this one. You still refuse to fly, don’t you?”

“Yes,” the girl fixed her sight on the floor. “I do.”

“Hey, easy there. I’m not going to persuade you; but if you’re not flying, you really need to make haste.”

“We will. Thank you.”

“Do you have that wretched package?”

“Tuffnut does.”

“Well then, you better make sure he doesn’t lose it. Goodnight, Whisper.”

“Goodnight.”

And waving her hand, she bid adieu to both Snotlout and Fishlegs, who, having mounted their dragons, took off in the air in almost exactly the same moment.

Not waiting until they faded from her sight, she turned back to the Twins, only to break into run to their home, racing the wind, the rain – and one another.

They almost managed to avoid the next deluge.

  



	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 13  
So you’re saying Heather has an eye for it**

_Heart don’t fail me now_   
_Courage don’t desert me_   
_Don’t turn back now that we’re here_

* * *

“I am not wearing this.” Whisper shook her head, determined not to give in to Ruffnut’s reasoning, holding onto the decision she had made on the previous evening instead.

“What a stubborn little troll you are,” her companion snorted, rolling her eyes. “You’re acting as if Heather had wanted to offend you with that gift.”

Whisper made no answer, too focused on her own thoughts, as she continued her agitated walk around the room, which had already lasted for a good few minutes. How was she supposed to explain to her friend that she felt uncomfortable accepting such an unexpected, unjustified present? Even if she could have delivered the best of excuses, she still couldn’t be sure that Ruff would agree to accept it.

She sighed heavily, and looked around her. Naturally, her eye was caught by the package Snotlout had given her.

If she’d had it her way, she probably wouldn’t have even untied the ropes that it had been entwined with – so strong was her resolution to return the parcel at the earliest opportunity. However, considering the Twins’ relentless insistence (“ _At least make sure it didn’t get wet!”_ ), she yielded, and having dealt with the tight knots, she carefully put the package’s content out of it, and lay it on the table.

How astonished she was when she realised that said content was nothing less but a set of neatly folded clothes!

However surprised she was by her discovery, Whisper did not intend to do anything more than check if the delivery had been brought to her dry; therefore, having brushed her hand against the clothing – and thus having gained the confidence that no harm had been done – she moved away from the table, and quite firmly suggested that all three of them go to bed as quickly as possible. She didn’t even think of unfolding the clothes and taking a better look at them.

She really wasn’t going to wear them.

“You know, it’s actually pretty rude of you.” Ruff’s sharp voice broke the silence that had fallen on the room. “Heather probably thought you would unpack the parcel at once, curious what you’d find inside. I bet she’ll send a T-mail today, asking how you liked the present. What will she think of you when she finds out that you haven’t even bothered to check what you’ve got?”

“It’s not like that,” the brunette opposed, stopping in her tracks for a moment. “I’m very grateful that she has thought of me, I just still can’t understand, why? We hardly even know each other.”

“You’ve already said that.”

“Don’t you think it matters?”

“As always, you’re way overthinking this. If you want people to be nice to you, you have to allow them to do so. Otherwise they’ll just feel offended – and there go those good relationships of yours.”

“But don’t you think it’s a little too much?”

“As long as Heather doesn’t, you shouldn’t either. Come on, go try these clothes on. I want to know what it really is myself.”

Whisper sighed again, still battling her own doubts. Was she really going to give up so easily? Then again – hadn’t Ruff been right when she’d said that lack of interest was just a proof of her ingratitude?

Besides, there was one more idea that came to her mind. Ever since she had appeared at the shores of Berk, she’d been doing her best as to support her friends in their everyday struggle, and felt vexed every time when she was deprived of her right to do it.

Maybe that was what Ruffnut had meant when she’d said that she should allow people to be kind. Maybe if she wanted others to accept her help, she had to learn to accept it herself.

“Alright, you win,” she stated eventually. “But if you want to see anything, you need to come here yourself.”

The warrior jerked up from her seat, and marched briskly to her companion’s side, curiously glaring at the little stack that was standing on the table.

“Any guesses what it may be?” she asked enthusiastically, not even trying to hide how intrigued the situation made her. “The material looks different than what we’re used to wear here. She wouldn’t send you anything that would stand out too much, though, right?”

“Ruff, I know exactly as much as you do,” her friend answered with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But, look, this tunic is _really_ weird. The material is one thing, but why would you need such loose sleeves? All of this looks rather badly sized, to be frank.”

“Probably because it’s a shirt,” Whisper explained patiently, reaching for the controversial piece of her new garment, taking it away from Ruffnut, and eyeing it carefully. “And that’s exactly what shirts look like.”

“Are you kidding me? Snotlout would fit in this just fine, you’re going to look like if you were wearing a sack.”

“Exaggerating again,” Whisper chuckled quietly, brushing the fair material with her fingers.

Contrary to Ruffnut, to whom such clothing was apparently so foreign, the other girl didn’t need much time to understand that the shirt she was holding had been more than decently tailored, and whoever was responsible for the sewing, must have been gifted with as much talent as skill. The fabric was pleasant to touch, warm, yet not particularly thick, soft and surprisingly light. And… it seemed familiar.

Either way, it would undoubtedly be pleasing to wear.

She put the shirt aside, and reached out for another piece of clothing. It was a leather vest of equally high quality and precise workmanship, fastened with metal clasps from top to bottom. Contrary to the shirt it was tight, to the point where it made Whisper wonder if she could fit in it at all. Attached to the vest was a belt, a few spare buckles… While under it she found a pair of trousers, just a few shades lighter than it.

Both women frowned at the sight. None, literally _none_ of the female inhabitants of Berk ever wore trousers just like that, always making sure that their thighs would be covered with something else than tight leggings, be it a skirt or a longer tunic. Then again, the trousers Whisper was holding in her hands didn’t exactly resemble what was worn on the little Isle of Berk.

“Looks like you’ll just have to try them on,” Ruffnut summed up, as if responding to the doubts of them both. “Is that all?”

“I don’t think so,” the other girl muttered, her gaze fixed on a smaller package, so far hidden under the stack of clothes. It was quite heavy by comparison, which could only increase Whisper’s curiosity. With no further dilly-dallying, she untied the strap that had been coiled around it, and uncovered the items lying beneath the leather.

Before her eyes appeared a pair of high, dark boots, perfectly matching the vest she had already examined.

Ruff took one of them and eyed it carefully from every side.

“Apparently, Heather wants you to look different from anyone within thirty miles or more,” she threw in flatly. “I’ve never seen boots like these.”

“You still think I should accept them?” Whisper asked teasingly, hardly managing to suppress a laugh. Incredible, how little it took for her friend’s enthusiasm to turn into confused scepticism, all in a matter of minutes.

The warrior barely shrugged.

“Different doesn’t mean bad, especially since Heather has an eye for it. Besides, as soon as Fishlegs mentioned that you’d fit in here nicely, you denied it.”

“Stop it. You know I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Odin almighty! Stop whining and put those on. We’ll see how it looks on you, and then we will decide what to do next. If it suits you, you’ll cut this nonsense, accept the present and simply thank Heather for her consideration. If it doesn’t, then we’ll think of some proper excuse.”

She nodded towards the stairs.

“You go up there, and I’ll make sure that nobody bursts into the house uninvited. Just hurry, I’m honestly curious if this set can look good on anyone.”

Refraining from further discussion, Whisper gathered the clothes and, careful not to drop any of them, she set off briskly in the indicated direction. Meanwhile, Ruffnut turned her back to her, fixing her sight on the wooden door frame, humming a song which her companion obviously couldn’t have recognised.

Whisper didn’t need much time to get rid of her current clothing, changing it for the one given her by Heather. And she had to admit – the difference could be felt at once.

A course, uneven tunic had been replaced with a soft, perfectly tailored shirt, clean, fresh, still smelling so new. In place of her leggings, too large and thus puckered uglily around her thighs appeared light, well-fitted trousers – and since they had never, apparently, been supposed to be that tight, they looked even better on her slim legs.

She glanced at the vest and boots, two elements that – on contrary to what she’d already been wearing – had to be fitted extremely well. Had Heather truly known what she’d been doing, choosing this sort of outfit for her?

However intriguing the situation was, there was no point in deciding about it in theory only. No longer hesitating, Whisper threw the leather vest on, buckled it up neatly, and belted up. Then she slipped her feet into the boots, and having ensured that the legs of her trousers had been set properly, she straightened up and froze for a second, ready to examine the final results.

Each and every part fitted her like a glove.

‘ _So you’re saying Heather has an eye for it,’_ she thought, stretching out her arms and shifting a little to test how comfortable her new outfit was. _‘Well, she_ _certainly does.’_

Buoyantly, she ran down the stairs, ready to present herself to Ruffnut. It looked like her friends hadn’t moved an inch this entire time, with her face still turned right at the door; to catch her attention, Whisper cleared her throat.

Now it was her who stood motionlessly, awaiting the warrior’s judgement.

The first thing she heard was a gasp of a held breath, which, however, was soon followed by a most expressive flow of words.

“Woah, sister,” Ruffnut began with an unconcealed delight. “Now that’s what I call good looks. I mean, it really is different from anything we used to wear around here, but Thor strike me if I let you give it back. Good Loki! Do you even realise how much it suits you? You know what, maybe it’s better if Heather doesn’t see you like this, or she might regret she’s ever sent it.”

“And why would she -”

“Are you kidding me? You look better than anyone in Berk’s entire history, including Astrid, Heather and a few other beauties. I’ve never been in the lead myself, so I really couldn’t care less, but Heather would have every right to feel jealous. Heck, and to think that we made you wear those old rags!”

“The clothes you gave me were fine, Ruff,” the brunette protested, feeling another pang of guilt. The last thing she wanted was for her friend to think that _her_ gift was not appreciated enough. “They were warm, and they fitted, and that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the warrior interrupted her, waving her hand impatiently. “But you surely didn’t look as impressive as you do right now, so the clobber from Heather is still in the lead.”

“Ruffnut, I -”

“Listen to me, chick. As long as you don’t say you like Heather more than you like us because she picked you a better wardrobe, I have nothing against the change. In fact, I’m all _for_ the change. Get it?”

Whisper looked carefully at her, slightly surprised with her friend’s final statement. She suddenly understood the reasons for the anxiety she had noticed just an evening before.

“Is that what it’s all about?” she asked shyly. “You think I’d forfeit Heather over you just because of a single package?”

“It sounds awful when you put it this way, so no, I don’t. Though we both know that I look rather pale compared to Heather – you know, raven hair, big green eyes, blah, blah, blah. She’s a better fighter and a much smarter one… Oh come on, you can’t deny that; and as soon as you get to know her a little better, you’ll see that for yourself.”

Her companion shook her head.

“Ruff, you really deserve a better description than that.”

“Listen, all I ask is that you don’t forget about us when you become friends with her, okay? Maybe it’s dumb-” Ruffnut hesitated; her voice sounded exactly like when she’d been asking Whisper if she had expected the delivery from the Berserkers. “Maybe it’s dumb, but I’ve never really been friends with anyone else than Tuff, and you know what he’s like. Astrid had Hiccup and Heather, Heather had Astrid and Fishlegs, and we… we had one another. I guess that’s why we care for you so much. We’d just be sorry to lose you.”

She wasn’t looking at her interlocutor, staring at the floor and only shrugging from time to time instead; on the contrary, Whisper glared at her friend intensively, unable to comprehend how on earth could her friend come to such a conclusion.

“Ruffnut, I’ve know you and Tuff for barely a month, and you already mean as much to me as a real family. I would never have anyone in your place, and please believe me that I’m not saying it just to calm or cheer you up. _No one_ compares to you, Heather included.”

The blonde girl sighed with relief and grinned widely, incapable of responding to that confession in any other way.

She wouldn’t have had to do it anyway, as in this exact moment someone knocked firmly against the door. Ruffnut rolled her eyes.

“Nobody’s home,” she murmured, and walked towards the door. “Who’s banging there? Don’t you have better things to do?”

“It’s me, Snotlout,” came a muffled answer. “Our beloved Chief gave a new ordinance, and we need to share the duties. Can I come in?”

The host approached the door unhurriedly, opened it violently, and with a careless gesture, she invited her guest inside. Snotlout nodded in greeting, not daring, however, to voice any additional commentary, and stepped over the threshold. Ruffnut slammed the door right after him.

“As I was saying, we’ve got a brand new list of jobs, with a whole bunch of new tasks and those few old ones which we didn’t finish on time. You know, the stables and other nonsense. Oh, hi Whisper. Looking good,” he threw in after a moment. “Hold on, are these trousers?”

The brunette blushed, taken aback with both the compliment and the remark that had followed it. She really, _really_ didn’t know what to say.

“It’s a gift from Heather,” she mumbled eventually. “I still don’t know if I’ll keep it.”

“That’s not true,” Ruffnut chimed in, baring her teeth in a grin. “That decision’s been made already. And you better stop asking stupid questions and just tell her she looks good.”

“And what did I just do?” Snotlout bridled.

“Fine, so what are you here for again?”

“I – I’ve just – ugh!” The young Jorgenson hit his fist against his forehead, wholeheartedly trying to remain at least relatively calm. “Why the hell am I wasting my breath for you if you don’t even listen?!”

“No idea, sweetheart. You’ll have to answer this one yourself.” Ruffnut said impassively, ignoring her guest’s growling.

“Ruff, you know we don’t have time for this. Do you really want to listen to another of Hiccup’s sermons?”

“Honestly, I don’t care, I never listen to him anyway. But okay, His Highness desires to see us. Tell me when and where, and I’ll come.”

“Yeah, as if that guy had enough time to meet with us,” Snotlout snorted and, having pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket, he waved it in the air. “He hardly deigned to find a minute to explain the list he’d given me. What we need to do now is meet with the rest of the gang, and decide who’s responsible for what, and then… _Oh, y_ _o_ _u’ve got to be kidding me!_ ”

The Viking grimaced in pain as he felt sharp teeth clenching on his calf. A mix of irritation and weariness reflected on his face when he’d realised that a creature responsible for this unpleasant feeling was a small dragon, a Terrible Terror, sinking his fangs in the legs of his trousers.

Alarmed, Whisper bit her lip – while Ruffnut didn’t as much as think of hiding her obvious amusement.

“Well well, look who’s decided to visit,” she exclaimed, intertwining her fingers and staring at the intruder with delight. “Hey Snotlout, isn’t that your little friend whom you trained so well back in the Academy? So many years and he can still remember the training – who would’ve thought you’re such a great Dragon Whisperer?”

“Not helping, Ruffnut!” the boy cried, glancing at the animal. “Stupid dragon. Ouch!”

“You need help?” Whisper chimed in at last, watching the whole scene with a growing worry. “Is there any way to-”

“Ah, forget it,” Snotlout grunted. “This guy won’t give up until something bigger scares him off. I’ll have to ask Hookfang for assistance, although we all know how eager to help me that reptile is.”

Whisper gave him a sceptical glare.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. Now you better take a look at this Terror, it seems like he has some parchment tied to his leg.”

The dark-hair girl approached him and kneeled, simultaneously eyeing the violet dragon. Indeed, there was a small scroll attached to its paw; Whisper unbound it, stood up, and gave it to Snotlout without uttering a single word.

However, he only glanced at the letter and shook his head immediately. “It’s addressed to the Twins. The dragon glued itself to me for personal reasons.”

The girl didn’t comment, turning back to Ruffnut, who suddenly appeared to be extremely excited.

“Ha! I told you she’d write!” she called out triumphantly, unfolding the parchment. “I knew Heather would want to know how you liked that gift from her. Now you can write back and in all honesty tell her that we’re all amazed by her choice.”

“Ruff, I’m not sure the message is from Heather,” Snotlout suggested anxiously.

“Come on, do you really think there’s enough people messaging me to make me lose track? Even our parents don’t do that. I’m telling you, the letter _is_ from Heather.”

Yet, as her gaze moved over the unevenly written lines, her smile faltered, and her face began to pale; the expression of feisty self-confidence disappeared, replaced by uneasiness and consternation.

She looked up at her companions a moment later, and dead-panned, “Parents.”

Silence fell on the room, ringing hollowly in the three friends’ ears. Ruffnut got back to the letter, analysing it attentively, furrowing her brows and biting her lips, clearly disturbed; Whisper stared at her stubbornly, feeling her own concern grow, trying with all of her might to chase away the pessimistic thoughts that had suddenly appeared in her mind.

Only Snotlout seemed to be perfectly composed. With his arms crossed on his chest, he kept glancing at the blonde warrior almost wearily, and when he finally met Whisper’s anxious gaze, he barely shrugged in response. Seeing her reproachful glare, he rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Alright, Ruffnut, would you please be so kind and explain what it’s all about?”

It was the warrior’s turn to look up at him.

“I told you. It’s about our parents,” she grunted.

“I understood that much. Are they alive?”

“What?! Of course they are!”

“Are they heavily wounded, dying, with no chance of survival?”

“What are you even talking about?!”

“Then what the Thor is going on here?”

Ruffnut froze in place for a second, surprised. Just for a second, though.

“Well if you must know, our dear Mum and Dad decided to come back from their vacation a little earlier,” she said. “Apparently, they concluded that they were bored with uncle’s Eric company-”

“What?!” her interlocutor shouted, and then burst into most cordial laughter. “Oh Thor, seriously? Ove and Lara are coming back? Oh, this is too good to be real – I mean, you didn’t expect them to come for the next three months or more, and-”

“It’s not funny!”

“Yes it is! Incredibly funny, really! Can you even imagine what it’ll be like? They come back, blissfully unaware of anything and BOOM! They find a new resident, of whom you two obviously didn’t even say a word, so – _get that thing away from me!”_

No one was able to say how and when the heavy axe appeared in Ruffnut’s hands – sufficient to say, it was mere moments later that its blade was hovering right next to Snotlout’s throat, so close, that the Viking barely dared to swallow.

“Alright, pal, enough joking,” the girl drawled through her gritted teeth. “You have two options now. Either you finish with those stupid comments of yours and help me find out a solution for this problem, or you’ll be looking for your head somewhere around the Outcasts’ Island. What do you say?”

“Geez, Ruff, I was just kidding! Put the axe away and let me think for a moment, and maybe I’ll manage to come up with something!”

“So you’ll help me?”

“Loki’s grace, yes, of course I will! Listen, can we for a second act like adults for once?”

The blonde warrior snorted, but threw the murderous tool aside; Snotlout put his hand to his throat in a reflex action, and started to massage it, not letting her out of his sight for a moment.

“Okay, so when do they come back exactly?”

“In three weeks.”

“Not so bad. Your face suggests they’re about to pop in here tomorrow.”

“Can we leave my face out of this and focus on what we need to do?”

“Hey, I’m just emphasising that it’s not such a tragedy. Looking for positives? No? Alright, fine, I see that’s a no. What we have to do right now is to think where we can accommodate Whisper when your parents come back, or better still, before they do. She may put up with you two somehow, but four Nuts under one roof is a challenge of its own, and _no, I’m not trying to offend you._ So, we need to find some other place where she could settle, and-” The boy scratched his chin thoughtfully, letting his gaze wonder around the room, and then stilled, shifted his sight on his two listening companions, and announced, “And I may have an idea how to do this.”

* * *

“Mildew’s hut. Okay. Why?” Fishlegs rested his hands on his hips, staring at the crumbling dwelling, casting more and more sceptical glares at Snotlout as he did.

“Because I have a plan, and it’s _genius_.”

Fishlegs raised his eyebrows in an ironic grimace. Had they been accompanied by Hiccup, he surely would have exchanged more than a few knowing looks, together with his Chief smiling at Snotlout’s words and his usual self-confidence; but of course, Hiccup was not there with them.

He never was.

“Okay, okay,” the fair-haired Viking answered after a while. “I’m just trying to understand why you couldn’t have shared this _genius_ plan of yours in some more civilised place, where we could all get much more easily, instead of dragging us to the other side of the island. What’s going on here?”

“Listen to me, Fishface. First of all, it’s no ‘other side’, because we’re still pretty much in the same part of Berk. Second, don’t you get it?” Snotlout pointed the decayed building with both of his hands. “ _This_ is our solution to all this! And moreover, it’s absolutely legit!”

“Wait, what?” Tuffnut chimed in as he’d landed right behind his friends’ backs. “You said it would be fun! What kind of fun is it if we’re acting legally?”

Snotlout spun on his heel, visibly irritated with this total lack of support. “What do you say for Hiccup not killing us when he finds out?”

“Boring!” The siblings answered in unison.

“Oh gods.” The young Jorgenson pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “Fishlegs, are we really trying to marry into this family?”

His interlocutor’s cheeks reddened immediately as he bore his gaze into the ground, embarrassed, simultaneously mumbling an unintelligible answer under his breath. Snotlout didn’t even try to delve into what his companion had had in mind, and instead, he focused on Skullcrusher, who had just appeared by the Twins’ side this moment – and as usual, he caught their attention in an instant. With the old custom, Tuffnut saluted the former trapper, while Ruff grinned widely, wiggling her eyebrows in a highly suggestive way. Snotlout snorted.

‘ _This is never_ _going to end.’_

The Viking noticed that Eret had been staring at him questioningly, but only shrugged in response. With a wave of his hand, he ordered both him and the rest of the Riders to leave their mounts and join him and Fishlegs on the glade before the modest hut. Whisper was sitting on a rock a dozen or so feet away.

Eret spoke up first.

“Listen, Snotlout, whatever it is you want to tell us, you better do it quickly. Hiccup has already made me promise to see him later this afternoon, and I don’t think he’ll be particularly happy to see me late.”

“We haven’t even started, and he’s causing problems already,” the other man groaned in answer. “Alright guys, listen. As you are well aware of, His Highness the Chief gifted us with a new portion of tasks today, which we – of course – won’t finish on time anyway. Never mind. Most of this listing is about those of the duties that we didn’t fulfil last week, so even more feeder repairing _etcetera_. I’ve got it with me, so we can start sharing in a moment.”

“Okay,” Tuffnut nodded. “But we’ve done this hundreds of times already, and you’ve never told us to meet in some super-secret places. Why is this time any different?”

“Because, you mutton-head, your parents have decided to come back to Berk two months earlier than they had planned, and this highly affects your living arrangements, and in result, kind of eliminates Whisper’s further stay.”

“Wait, Mum and Dad are coming back?” The fair-haired Viking disrupted, turning towards his sister with a bright smile, as if in search for confirmation of this wonderful news; after a moment, however, he focused his attention on Snotlout again, clearly confused. “Hold on a second. Why don’t I know anything about it? And why do _you_ know anything about it?”

“It’s a long story.” Ruffnut sighed wearily. “Go on, Snot.”

“Why, thank you kindly. One way or the other, the endless list of never-ending repairs and a grumpy Chief has just been joined by the matter of Whisper’s removal. The same reasons for which she couldn’t stay with anyone but the Twins at first make it impossible for her to live with anyone else now. We have about three weeks for the entire operation – we won’t build a house in such a time, but Hookfang burn me, if we can’t refit the one behind my back.”

Having finished his speech, Snotlout crossed his arms on his chest, and looked around proudly, curious about his companions’ reaction. In all honesty, he wouldn’t have been surprised if his proposition had been met with a general reluctance, and he was fully prepared for it, still having a few aces up his sleeve. However, to his huge astonishment, nobody seemed to be against the idea – the Vikings were nodding in unison, thinking, and only Fishlegs appeared to have any doubts according the plan. Snotlout turn directly towards him.

“Stop squirming, Fishface, and just tell us what you don’t like about it.”

“You know, it all looks very nice in theory,” his interlocutor answered calmly. “I just don’t understand how you can call it _legal_. Didn’t Hiccup tell us directly that Mildew’s hut had to be destroyed? Multiple times?”

“All I can recall is that every time the question is brought up, Hiccup says that, ‘the house must be knocked before it falls on someone’s head’ and that ‘there’s no point in repairing it, as it won’t be useful to anyone.’ Well, if we take good care of it, we’ll eliminate the risk that somebody will really get hurt – as for its usefulness, I don’t think anyone could doubt that there is a tenant to benefit from it. We just have to be careful now, so our favourite leader doesn’t find out before the work is done – as long as we do, it should all be fine. Now who’s with me?”

As if ordered, four hands rose up in the air; even Fishlegs, so sceptical at the beginning, turned out to be quite easily persuaded by the arguments his short friend had presented.

Maybe it wasn’t exactly the way their Chief would have approved of, but like everyone else, he was too tired with his current behaviour to care about the possible outburst on his side.

If Hiccup wanted to yell at them, he would come up with a suitable reason anyway.

“Hold on a second,” Eret disrupted the momentary silence. “I’m happy we all agree on this, but it looks like anyone asked for the future inhabitant’s opinion. Whisper, what do _you_ think of it? All other issues aside, are you sure you want to live in such a… Well, basically, in a middle of nowhere?”

The girl furrowed her brows thoughtfully.

“I had some doubts,” she admitted, rising from her seat and approaching a moss-grown wall, eyeing it attentively. “I did, although the place was not a reason for them. However, we discussed the whole affair with Snotlout carefully, and in this situation, it does seem to be the best of options. Under the condition that we will stick to a few rules, of course.”

Five friends pricked up their ears, waiting in anticipation for further explanation.

“First of all, our work here cannot affect your availability – all of your duties must be fulfilled with even engagement, as if this hut didn’t exist. If Hiccup gives you an order, it must be carried out regardless of the pace with which the work here advance. Besides, if this rebuild is supposed to remain a secret – and not just for a week, but three – we must adjust our everyday behaviour to it; so for example, make sure that most of our old habits remains unchanged. We need to keep up appearances – if we start to disappear from the village with every arising opportunity, we will immediately cause suspicions. Snotlout must still take his daily naps, Fishlegs must drown in his books, and a prank or two could be of some use as well – all within reason, of course. Only if we keep to this, we have a chance of gaining enough time to finish the repairing in time.”’

Instead of responding to her offer directly, Tuffnut threw his arm in the air with brand new zeal. Whisper smiled encouragingly, curious to hear what her friend had to say; she saw that her companions are at least equally intrigued.

“I’ve got a petition,” the Viking stated proudly, lowering his hand as quickly as he had raised it. “What do you say we dethrone Hiccup and make Whisper a Chief instead?”

The whole group burst into cordial laughter; Ruffnut clapped, Snotlout and Eret firmly announced their support for the idea, and Fishlegs, with a gentle grin on his lips, shook his head piteously. The dark-haired woman rolled her eyes as she still stood outside the main circle, but did not comment on Tuffnut’s words. She was smiling, too.

Eret turned towards her once more, meaning to resolve the last of doubts that were still concerning him.

“Through all of your speech, you constantly used the word ‘we’. How should we understand that?”

Whisper sent him a mischievous grin.

“That’s my most important condition – if there is to be done anything here, I want to actively participate in it. And don’t you dare tell me that I won’t manage, because I’m resolved to prove you wrong.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 14  
As if something had broken**

_How in the midst of all this sorrow_   
_Can so much hope and love endure_   
_I was innocent and certain_   
_Now I’m wiser but unsure_

* * *

“A little bit to the right, no, not so much, you’re jerking this rope too rapidly, you will hit the – oh, wait, now it should be fine. You can pull!”

Fishlegs slipped cautiously off Meatlug’s saddle, watching his three friends as they were working eagerly on the repair of the roof. On the very top of the house was Ruffnut, sitting with her legs carelessly rested against a thin log, receiving and layering slates, which Tuff pulled up with the aid of a simple mechanism, who again was directed by Whisper’s remarks and orders. Barf and Belch were flying around them, catching the slates that kept falling down in the process.

Fishlegs patted his faithful companion on her neck, and having approached  one of the girls who was still on the ground, he nodded approvingly.

“It really looks like you’ve almost got this part covered,” he stated in an impressed voice. “I have to admit, when I got that Terror from you, I didn’t really believe what I was reading. I would never expect anyone to deal with all this in such a short time.”

“Well, those were a very intensive three days,” Whisper answered with a sigh. “Besides, we can’t exactly afford stretching it out, as we don’t have much time. Who knows how long we can benefit from weather like this?”

Fishlegs nodded again.

“That is true. Bucket says it should still be pretty sunny tomorrow, but when it comes to the days after that, he makes no promises.”

“The roof should be all done by tomorrow’s afternoon; then we can focus on the interior, and we won’t need to worry about the weather in there. That is, if Ruff puts the slates on properly, but it all seems to be going  well so far.”

“The Twins know quite a lot about roof repairing, actually,” the boy smirked under his nose. “I can’t tell you how many times their plays ended in damaging one of them, and Stoick always made sure that they would suffer consequences for it. Surprisingly, his methods worked out just fine.”

“You sound as if they didn’t usually, while all I hear is that Stoick the Vast was the best Chief to ever rule on Berk.”

“No, no, it’s not that. It’s not about whether his methods worked or not. It’s about how _nothing_ works for the Twins. Usually, at least.”

“You know we can hear you, right?” Tuffnut chimed in, standing just a few feet away from them. “I mean, I can’t speak for Ruff, but I have heard every single word of yours my friend, and I am not impressed. I don’t think Ruffnut would be, either. Hey, sis, did you hear what Ingerman has just said?”

The boy fell silent, quietened with the fair-haired Viking’s enormous hand, as the latter realised what his companion was about to yell a little too late. Tuffnut struggled for a short while, however, with his hands still grasping the rope, he couldn’t do much more; he narrowed his eyes and glared at his oppressor reproachfully.

“There’s no use trumpeting it like this,” Fishlegs murmured, casting uncertain glances in Ruffnut’s direction. “Besides, you know it’s true.”

“You know, whatever it was Tuffnut wanted to tell me, gagging him will only make me want to know it more,” the female warrior called out from her place on the roof. “You’d better release him before he lets the rope slip again, and we lose another portion of materials. And hurry up with loading, I’m not gonna wait here forever!”

Reluctantly, Fishlegs moved away from the younger of the two Thorstons, murmuring unintelligible remarks addressed to the latter under his breath, while Ruff just bared her teeth in a triumphant grin. In this very moment, the door of the hut opened rapidly, and from the inside came Snotlout, as always content and confident in himself.

“What is it, Fishface, being a lost cause again? You can’t win with a Jorgenson, I’ve been telling you that for years. Snotlout! Snotlout! Oi! Oi! Oi!” He cheered. “And how is my Princess doing today, huh? You must have a great view from up there, maybe I should join – _Ruffnut!”_

He jumped away when an earthen slate dashed right before him, by miracle not hitting the tips of his boots. Whisper covered her mouth in a reflex action, hoping to hide the grin that had immediately blossomed on her face; Fishlegs also curved his lips in an ironic grimace, glad to see his companion’s pride being so suddenly punished.

“I think we can safely say that your chances are still quite even,” the brunette announced plainly, simultaneously exchanging meaningful glances with Tuff, and watching her unassailable friend with the corner of her eye.

“Women,” Snotlout sighed in response, and shook his head in disbelief. “Alright, Whisper, I’ve removed those stones from the hearth, I think we can start putting all this trash out. And that would be all, I think.”

The girl nodded.

Snotlout continued, “As soon as we’re done with that, we can clean the whole room and finally begin to furnish it. Fishlegs, do we have any specific plan for it?”

“I’m afraid, not really.” The other Viking shrugged. “We know that we need to deliver a bed, a table, a few chairs, a few shelves. We can’t expect anyone to share those with us, so we will probably have to make them ourselves; especially if we’re still determined not to let anyone else in this little secret.”

“We are, and we will be. I hope you haven’t told Gustav, because then we might as well invite Hiccup here at once.”

“You’re exaggerating again,” Whisper bridled, looking at her interlocutor.

“Yes, yes, because Gustav is the wronged one. Look, we really do know this kid – and with all of his unquestionable advantages, keeping his mouth shut is not one of them.”

“Very funny.”

“Have you told him or not?”

“No.”

“Perfect. You’ll see, one day you’ll thank me for it. And now -”

“And now,” Fishlegs interrupted him, “you should come back to the village and train some hand-to-hand fighting with the recruits. We covered quite a lot of theory today, some action would do the children good. Their break is about to end, they will start coming back to the Academy any minute. It would be better if you were there first.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Snotlout snorted, rolling his eyes. “Just what I needed on this beautiful, sunny day.”

“Stop whining and go or you’ll be late. Also, I think Hiccup was looking for you, and we certainly don’t want him to find you here.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going. Gee.” He mounted up on Hookfang’s saddle and settled back. “You know what, compared to meeting with His Highness, those kids don’t seem that bad after all. Do you think that if I tell him I need to take care of them, he’ll finally leave me alone?”

And, not waiting for an answer, the boy nudged the dragon with his knee and took off, gliding towards the old Arena, where his charges were slowly gathering together.

Whisper bit her lip, following him with her gaze.

“Everything alright?” Fishlegs asked her, staring at her attentively.

The girl sighed.

“I’m trying to understand him, and I still can’t. Every time Snotlout mentions Hiccup, he speaks of him as if he has absolutely no respect for him, as if he truly couldn’t care less; but at the same time everything about him seems to scream that it’s exactly the opposite.”

Fishlegs rested his hand on his neck and fixed his sight on the ground, not entirely sure how he should answer the hypothesis Whisper had just formulated. As always, she had been right in her assumptions, yet the Rider wasn’t certain how much  he should confirm.

“Fishlegs?”

Then again, even if he didn’t confirm it, someone else would.

“It’s all terribly messed up,” he answered her after a moment of hesitation. “Snotlout is permanently mad at Hiccup, because he can’t accept the way he acts. And it’s really not about Snotlout not wanting to fulfil the duties Hiccup is giving him; he’s always complained about them, but never as much as now. The truth is, he misses Hiccup hell of a lot, _the_ Hiccup, whom you’ve never had a chance to meet, because right now, he’s behaving like a totally different person.

“At the same time though, we all know that this old Hiccup isn’t completely lost yet, and that’s why we can’t and don’t want to cut ties with him for good. If you add our extremely twisted relationship with him for the first fifteen years of our lives, you’ll get the most ridiculous relationship in the history of Berk. There’s very little to envy here, really.”

Whisper smiled sadly, and nodded. She opened her mouth to answer him, too, but she was quickly cut off by Ruffnut, calling them from above.

“Hey you, down there!” They heard her yell a moment later and, as if ordered to do so, they both shifted their gazes towards her. “If you finally finished creating a psychological portrait of the Only Rightful Chief, could you please replace Tuff at those ropes? Not that I’m particularly worried about him, but the guy has already reduced the pace twice. And time, my friends, is not something we have a lot of around here!”

* * *

Bucket’s predictions were soon confirmed as the following day brought them nothing but sun and a gentle southern breeze. Despite that, Whisper still insisted they use it for something other than repairing the old dwelling, limiting their visits to two very short ones and even during those she had only been accompanied by Snotlout and Eret – and each of them had visited the remote nook at a different time.

Her friends protested at first, arguing that they could not afford to waste such an opportunity, even if it indeed was a little risky. They changed their mind when the girl had reminded them how the previous few day had looked like and made them realise how their absence might be taken by Berk’s other inhabitants – not to mention its _Chief_.

“You’re saying that we can’t afford losing a dozen hours. It’s true, but what we _really_ can’t afford right now is someone from the outside discovering this “redecoration”. And the more time we spend here, the bigger the chance that it will all come out. We’ve already done more than anyone expected, a day’s break can only help us now.”

Following her suggestion, the Vikings focused on their usual obligations that day, simultaneously making sure that their presence in the village would not go unnoticed. Now, twenty hours later, Whisper was strolling around the house, picking from the floor wooden pieces that the Thorstons had thrown away earlier, too busy putting up her too big (in her opinion at least) bed. Eret was kneeling by the wall in front of the entrance, carefully layering heavy, neatly chipped stones.

The hut resonated with the sounds of rain and wind that crashed against the newly renovated roof.

“Why do I have a feeling we’ve forgotten something?” Tuffnut threw in as he held the fragments of the new bed in a way that allowed Ruffnut to hammer on it. “We’ve repaired the roof, tidied the floor, we’re making the bed right now. Everything is here, and yet, something is missing.”

“Could you stop talking and hold those planks like you should?” Ruffnut berated him in response. “We’ll never finish this if you don’t shut up for a second at least.”

“Hey, I’m covering a very important subject here. We can’t have Whisper move in to an unfurnished house, right?”

“Let’s begin with how we can’t have her move in to a house where she has nothing to sleep on. Now focus, smarty-pants, or you’ll be pulling these nails from your skull.”

“There’s no hearth here,” Eret muttered, not breaking his stare on his own work; the siblings looked at him curiously. “It’s a big gap, actually, I would think you’d have noticed it earlier.”

Tuffnut slapped his hand against his forehead, simultaneously letting go of the construction he’d been holding. Ruffnut sprang, avoiding having her feet crushed with a heavy log by inches, and swore underneath her breath, sending death glares at both her brother and the former trapper, who in her eyes was indirectly responsible for the unpleasant outcome.

Her twin didn’t even notice her anger, too happy with the unravelling of the puzzle that had been bothering him for this entire morning.

“Of course!” he cried out with a childlike excitement. “How did we not think of that, sis? But listen, Eret; if you knew, why aren’t you doing anything about it? You wouldn’t even make it through a summer without a hearth here.”

“Trust me, Tuffnut, I am well aware of that.”

“So…?”

“Actually, this is exactly what Eret is working on right now,” Whisper interrupted him, smiling at the sight of the Viking’s confused expression. “We’re conducting a little experiment; if it works, we will save some space in the house. A hearth in the middle of the room makes moving around rather difficult, and takes a lot of space just for itself.”

Ruffnut looked at her in disbelief, immediately forgetting her former aggravation.

“Wait, so you don’t want a hearth inside? That will never work, chick, you’ll freeze to death by the end of this month.”

The brunette shook her head vigorously.

“That’s not it. We’re just trying to replace an open hearth with something smaller and more enclosed.” Having given such brief explanation, the girl leaned towards the oldest member of the group, and in a low voice, she asked: “How is it going?”

“I’m not sure,” the man glanced sideways at her. “It all looks fine so far, but what can I say? We won’t know how this system works until you start using it. Fortunately, putting up a hearth doesn’t take much time so even if it doesn’t work at all -”

“It will. You’ll see.”

In the other part of the room, Ruffnut rolled her eyes.

“Are you going to tell us what it’s all about or will you just keep whispering til Ragnarök?”

“I just thought we could build a kiln of sorts. It would be safer, it would need less space, and we could also get rid of the smoke as most of it would come out through the chimney.”

“But won’t it make it less efficient?”

“I think that for a hut of this size it will do perfectly. Besides, have you ever actually entered Gobber’s workshop and thought, “Oh Thor, it’s freezing”?”

The blonde warrior giggled, fully convinced with her friend’s explanation; however, the grin disappeared from her face just a moment later, when without warning, her brother let go of the wooden elements for the second time this morning, this time jumping a few good feet away, and without an apparent reason to do so.

“Alright, that’s it!” Ruff cried out with irritation, throwing the hammer she’d been using on the floor. “I give up. Whisper, please, give me someone else to work on it with or you’ll get your bed for the winter solstice. Seriously bro, can’t you just act like a human for a sec?”

Whisper eyed the once again arguing siblings, unable to miss the suspicious glances Tuff cast on the ceiling; she understood that was where they should look for the cause of his sudden agitation and not wasting any more time, she shifted her gaze towards it. A moment was enough for her to notice the real source of the problem.

“The roof is leaking,” she announced. “And it’s getting worse. Eret, is there any way we can repair it from the inside?”

The trapper fixed his sight on the ceiling and frowned, discontented.

“I don’t think so. Apparently something has loosened up there because of that horrid wind, and such a thing can only be repaired from the outside. The best we can do now is try to clog that crack with some cloth, but at this height you can only do that with Barf and Belch’s help, and Odin knows where they – what on earth are you doing?”

While Eret had been sharing his thoughts with her, Whisper had boldly rolled into action, resolved not to waste another second. When he spoke, she grabbed a piece of material that had been lying in the corner and slipped it behind her belt, simultaneously looking around in search of a rope, which she had found requisite for her hurriedly invented plan.

“I’m going up,” she answered inattentively, finally noticing the necessary twine. She took it into her hands, quickly examined its condition and with a practised movement, she threw it over a balk between the walls. Before anyone had time to stop her, she was already in the middle of her climb; it wasn’t a minute later that she was standing on the thick log, carefully yet confidently moving towards the leaking roof.

“What the -” was the only thing Eret could utter in response, completely shocked with both the decision Whisper had so quickly made and with skills she’d shown mere moments after.

Meanwhile, the brunette reached her target and in a few agile moves she plugged the hole, thereby stropping the weak stream of water that had caused the unwanted break in their work in the first place.

The twins were cheering.

“And that’s it! Ladies and Vikings, Whisper takes the game!” Ruffnut cried out, throwing her arms in the air like the most loyal rooter. “Now this is how you do it! “ _I don’t think so”, “such a thing can only be repaired from the outside”_ , “ _you can only do that with Barf and Belch’s help”._ Ha, and what do you say now, Mr Know-It-All?”

“This cloth won’t last for long,” Whisper refuted immediately. “As soon as it stops raining, we’ll have to take care of it for real.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tuff waved his hand dismissively. “But how did you even get there? One moment you’re here, another you’re there, and you don’t even lurch! I mean, how _awesome_ is that?”

The dark-haired girl smiled and shook her head piteously. She moved to the side a little and not wavering an inch indeed, she sat on the balk, letting her legs dangle on one of its sides. It was almost strange to think how comfortable she felt up there.

She was just about to clasp the rope again when the door swung open, letting a soaking-wet Snotlout in. Yet, on contrary to the situation that had took place five days before, the boy did not seemed to be particularly bothered by the fact.

“Good afternoon to you, my friends!” he called from over the threshold. “Did you miss me? I’m sure you did, you don’t have to hide it from me. I certainly missed you, my dear ladies, especially… _What the Thor are you doing up there?!”_

* * *

Just a few more hours and it would have been a week since they’d first started to work in that hut.

“Alright, gang. I have literally no idea how we did it, but it looks like this plan really can click.” Snotlout rested his hands on his hips, standing on the glade before the house and eyeing it approvingly. Of course, there still was a lot to do there, but the Viking simply couldn’t not feel proud at the thought of the dispatch with which they’d been working.

Whisper glanced up at him from over a file of planks, which she and Fishlegs were currently layering on the catwalk that lead to the entrance.

“There’s still plenty of work left to do,” she answered as she made sure that the planks were properly put on the chassis. “It’s been a good week, but we’re not even halfway through with it, and who knows how much we’ll manage to do in the upcoming days.”

“I know, I know. But I really didn’t think we would maintain the pace for that long, especially with those “breaks” you decree all the time.”

“If it wasn’t for those “breaks”, the rebuild would have come out long time ago, and we could basically throw this entire plan away at the start.”

“I won’t argue about that. There must be something in it, if after all those days His Highness still hasn’t realised what is going on around here, and better, he almost complimented us for finishing the reparation of the stable half a day early. You know, I have a feeling that if he found out what we’re doing now, he wouldn’t even be that mad. Come on, even he isn’t cracked enough to make us destroy a house where we’ve already done so much, especially if we can reconcile it with our duties.”

“Let’s not check how it would go for real.” The girl reached for the nails that lay nearby and started to hammer them one by one, on their supposed spots. “ _However_ , I can’t help but wonder how you manage to do all that. Ever since I came to Berk, you’ve done nothing but complain about how you can’t finish anything on time, and now you suddenly make it with no problems at all, while additionally working here? Say what you will, I’m starting to get suspicious.”

Snotlout shrugged and leaning down, he began to layer next of the boards.

“I think our motivation to do all this more quickly is just bigger now. The thing with Hiccup’s orders is that the best prize you can expect is the lack of his whining and a new job that’s literally waiting for you to take care of it. That’s probably why nobody ever rushes their work there. Here we know that all this trouble counts for something, at least.”

“But -”

“But we also know that we can only afford being here if we don’t give anyone in the village a reason to complain.”

The brunette sighed.

“I only hope that _more quickly_ doesn’t mean _sloppily_.”

“No kidding. Hiccup would feed us to the bores if we tried to pull something like that,” Fishlegs chimed in eventually. “Besides, I think Snotlout’s forgotten to mention that we were lucky in our search for a few pairs of helpful hands.”

Whisper froze; then she raised her gaze and, clearly taken aback, she started to shift it from one Rider to the other.

Snotlout let out a nervous chuckle.

“Well… yes. We may or may not have hired Gustav… or someone…”

“Wait, the same Gustav to whom you couldn’t confide a smallest secret just two days ago?”

“Hey, nobody’s saying that we confided anything to him; all we did was suggest that instead of sitting in the forge from dawn to dusk, he could take charge of something serious for once and from time to time, substitute one of us at some of the less demanding tasks.”

“You know he’s not staying at the forge for his own pleasure, but works like a bee, constantly.” The girl shook her head disapprovingly. “If he starts to disappear from it without reason -”

“That’s why we had to confide some things to Gobber.” Fishlegs intervened again, grinning almost mischievously.

Whisper’s eyes widened in surprise, the girl equally shocked with the information and the way it had been conveyed. Her reaction was not missed by the two Vikings, who in lieu of an answer exchanged very meaningful and very satisfied glances.

She laughed quietly.

“You’ve had it all planned, haven’t you?”

“Maybe. Let’s just say we felt inspired by a certain green-eyed person’s strategy.”

* * *

“So, we’re up in the air and flying, Barf lets the gas out, we make one turn, then two, three and… _KABOOM!_ ” Tuffnut waved his arms to emphasise the force of the explosion, to which his entire previous speech had led. “The gas ignites and after a moment there’s a huge ball of fire right above everybody’s heads. It’s supposed to be a heart or something eventually, but we need a few more days to work up the details.”

“It’s for Mum, you know,” Ruffnut explained, equally delighted with the idea as her agitated brother. “She’ll be thrilled, you’ll see.”

Snotlout smirked derisively.

“What, doesn’t your Dad deserve a welcoming as well?”

“Whatever makes Mum happy, makes Dad happy, too,” Tuff answered, undaunted by his friend’s attitude and as per usual, supporting his response with vast gesturing. “This is how it works – or at least that’s what he says, though personally, I’ve never understood the link. Either way, the explosion was wonderfully powerful, so you must be the only people on Berk who haven’t seen it. A true work of art. And the best part is, it was Whisper’s idea!”

The brunette raised her eyebrows, sincerely surprised by the accusation put forward against her so unexpectedly; the rest of the group watched her with a picked-up interest.

“I swear that I have nothing to do with it,” she tried to defend herself.

“Oh, quite the opposite.” Ruffnut pointed her finger at her. “It was you who told us to keep up the appearances of normality on our very first day here, and even used our pranks as an example. And it was you, who suggested that we think of welcoming our parents in a little more special way.”

“But not like this!”

“Maybe not, but you directly said, that it would be good if we made ourselves conspicuous. The truth is, sister, you’re starting to rebel. And you’re liking it.”

Whisper lowered her head and shook it firmly, convincing absolutely no one with that small gesture. She smiled weakly, forced to admit to herself that Ruffnut’s words, even if steep, were not entirely untrue.

In the end, how long could she be that ever humble, ever quiet, ever ready to help? She simply needed a break.

With no trace of rush, she stood up from her seat and threw another bough into the fire.

“Alright, so one way or another, we did the job and got everybody’s attention in the most nut-like way you can imagine,” Tuff continued. “Hiccup was super mad at first, but then he realised that we hadn’t really destroyed anything, so he just waved his finger at us and ordered us to get back to work. By the way, if it hadn’t been for us, Eret never would’ve sneaked out from the Academy so discreetly, so again, kudos for us. Speaking of which, where is he? Still chatting with Hiccup?”

“Gods, that again.” Snotlout flung a stick he’d been fiddling with into the fire, causing hundreds of fresh sparks to fly up in the sky. “Those two do nothing but talk, and talk, plan and un-plan. Every time I look for one of them, the other is circling around. Sometimes I think they’ve decided to become a couple or something. Come on, even while he was with Astrid, he never ignored us to such a degree!”

At the sound of the Shield Maiden’s name, Whisper’s curiosity rose even more, although the girl hoped she hadn’t let anyone else see that. It was this very moment, when Snotlout felt a nudge in his ribs, coming from none other, than Fishlegs himself – unfortunately to the latter, however, the poke couldn’t have had any effect on Tuff, already giving the answer the Chronicler had been trying to prevent.

“That is very true, my friend, very true indeed. Curious though, that Hiccup would trust Eret more than any of us, even though it’s us with whom he spent so many years on all those different kinds of missions. If you think about it… He used to assign tasks to us all the time at the Edge, actual leadership included. Not to _us_ , of course.” With a motion of his hand, he pointed to his sister and himself. “We all know how _our_ reign ends. But to Fishlegs? Or even Snot?”

“Yeah, exactly,” Ruffnut offered. “It’s not like Astrid was the only one to sub for him, right?”

Fishlegs gave her a pleading glare.

Ruffnut ignored him completely.

“And it gets better if you remember what kind of contact they once had. Hiccup might have taken Eret in willingly, but a few weeks after he no longer seemed that sure.”

Her twin grinned widely.

“He looked as if he’d wanted to throw him off the cliff.”

“He was super jealous.”

“You know, considering that his fiancée kept flying over the island with some tattooed hulk all the time -”

“In the name of Odin, Fishlegs, can you _stop that?!_ ” Plainly annoyed, Snotlout cried out unexpectedly. “Every time one of us mentions Astrid, you begin to grimace, wink, nudge and Thor know what else. It’s bad enough we have Hiccup thundering at us for speaking of her, we really don’t need another such guy. And although I can restrain in his company, well forgive me, but I’m certainly not going to do that here. No one has ever told us to keep it a secret, and I think it’s high time Whisper learns why Berk looks like a madhouse these days. Astrid Hofferson was a part of this group, guys. She was our peer, our friend, our General. And yes, she was Hiccup Haddock’s fiancée.”

Silence fell upon them for a while. Fishlegs kept his sight fixed on the ground between his feet, watching them stubbornly, the Twins eyed Snotlout with open admiration, while he looked like if he couldn’t  care less for the reactions he’d caused, simply content to have mustered the courage to pour out the frustration that had been bothering him for so long.

Surprised, yet strangely happy, Whisper shifted her gaze from one of her friends to another.

It was as if something had broken in them then, as if something had opened. One by one, they started to tell, recall, joke. A story followed a story, a description hunted a description. They spoke about smallest, least meaningful events, which, for whatever reason, had imprinted on their memories, disclosing the scenes they shouldn’t have even remembered. They no longer avoided explaining Astrid’s relationship with their Chief, yet they didn’t pay too much of their attention to that subject, either, too focused on evoking their own, personal experiences.

Snotlout told them about how Astrid had supported him when he himself was sure that Hookfang had been all too close to his death, while Ruffnut straightforwardly admitted that her relation with the girl had not always been the most pleasant one – a fact which her brother willingly confirmed. Even Fishlegs, so hesitant at first, didn’t miss his chance to share the memories from the earliest days of their youth, back in the time when none of them had suspected what kind of friendship was meant to join them all.

They talked about how she’d laughed, how she’d cried, how she couldn’t  control her own anger. About how she had changed during the years, how she’d grown gentler, and yet never ceased to be the most determined warrior the Barbaric Archipelago had ever seen.

They finally explained to her what Yaknog was.

Thus occupied, they did not notice when Eret had joined them. At first, the man was certain he’d misheard something, but he also quickly realised that what he was witnessing was happening for real. He by no means intended to disrupt that cheerful babble, and instead he simply sat down by the fire with a grin – only to amuse the company with his own anecdotes just a few moments later.

Whisper was the only one not to say anything. Engrossed in listening to her friends’ voices, she rejoiced in the happiness that reflected on their faces. And the longer she listened, the stronger was her belief that not only Hiccup, not only Heather, but each and every one of them had loved Astrid immensely, and therefore they must have missed their companion just as terribly as the other two. She couldn’t help but think that all of those people, who were now sitting by the fire with her, could have given up and turned bitter, but somehow they still fought, not only for themselves, but also for their grieving Chief, who stubbornly rejected all of their endeavours.

She could only wonder how it was possible.

  



	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 15  
She’s not one of us**

_Maybe I make things a mess_ **  
** _And maybe you're right to have doubts in me_ **  
** _Maybe, but nevertheless_ **  
** _If you for once could just trust me_

* * *

“Snotlout! Hey, Snotlout, hold on a second!” The dark-haired Viking stopped in his tracks, surprised with his equally dark-haired cousin’s call, and then unhurriedly turned towards him. Hiccup was approaching him fast, covering the distance in a brisk step – a trot almost – with a strangely enthusiastic grin reflecting on his usually serious face.

Snotlout raised his eyebrows, glancing sceptically at Toothless, who sat nearby and watched his Rider with similar astonishment; having met the Jorgenson’s questioning look, he tilted his head to the side, as if to say that he himself did not understand much more.

Meanwhile, the young Chief finally got to the place where his friend was standing and, willingly or not, Snotlout was forced to shift his attention back to him.

“Now, I’ve got to you at last, I was starting to think I wouldn’t make it today,” Hiccup threw out, for some reason never ceasing to smile. “Wherever I ask about you, they always tell me that you’re already onto something else. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you work with such speed.”

“Alright, what is it?” his short companion answered immediately and crossed his arms on his chest in anticipation, as if he was waiting for explanation; indeed, it was exactly what he hoped to seem like. “What are you up to?”

Hiccup looked at him, confused, not fully comprehending that unexpected attack.

“I’m not up to anything,” he answered calmly, watching his friend attentively. “But I’ve spent half of my day looking for you, so I’m glad it’s finally over.”

“And why are you smiling?”

“Sorry?”

“Why are you so radiant all of a sudden?”

“I think I’ve just explained that.” The Chief frowned; the grin that had just been commented on disappeared from his face, although there still was no trace of anger on it. “Listen, I don’t know what’s so wrong about my facial expressions but -”

“Nothing, except that usually you look like a walking thundercloud, and now it seems like if you were happy to see me. Sorry for being shocked, but it’s not exactly the most common sight lately.”

Of course, there was no remorse in Snotlout’s words, which instead resonated with the usual, derisive disbelief. Hiccup was not surprised to hear it – excluding a few memorable instances, all of his conversations with Snotlout looked precisely like this and moreover, he was well aware that such a tendency was largely his own doing.

He sighed, resigned yet still determined not to give in to the new wave of annoyance that was once again overcoming him.

“Snot, I really don’t feel like arguing with you right now,” he explained, hoping that his cousin would stop treating him like an enemy, for which he apparently was taking him at the moment. “The sun is shining, the Terrors are singing, and I can finally stop chasing after you. Besides, for reasons unbeknown to me, our work’s been going incredibly well, better than it has for a long time now. You’ve almost managed to catch up with all the last weeks’ backlog! And -” Hiccup rested his palm on the back of his neck; the corners of his mouth rose ever so slightly. “I think I should thank you for that. After all, it’s you who oversees it all.”

Had their conversation taken place during a meal, Snotlout undoubtedly would have gagged on whatever would’ve been in his mouth at the time, no matter if it was ale, wine or a boiled cod. Besides, even in these circumstances choking on his own saliva still remained a real threat and the only thing that saved the Viking was the fact that in his parched, dry mouth even that substance was lacking.

The only thing he could do in such a situation was fix his shocked gaze at his leader’s face and raise his eyebrows even higher.

“Whoa, whoa… What?!” he cried out at last, raising his hands before him, as if he wanted to stop the course of time and gain those few moments necessary to process the words he’d just heard. “Who are you, and what on the deuce have you done with my reason-lacking cousin?!”

H iccup shook his head and laughed involuntarily.

“Your reason-lacking cousin has finally had a good night sleep and he’s a little bit less grumpy thanks to it.”

“Yeah, as if I could ever believe _that_. Your life’s ambition is to never, ever  have a good sleep.”

“Hey, five hours are better than two.”

“Good gods.” Snotlout covered his eyes with his hand and sighed extravagantly. “Say what you will, but this way of living will get you in some serious trouble one day, and sooner or later you’ll regret all of those stupid decisions of yours. To the point, though. What is it you must share with me that you need to do it personally? You won’t tell me that you’ve been running after me just to thank me for not screwing something up for once.”

H iccup shrugged and patted Toothless on the neck  as the latter had just appeared  by his side, and was now shaking his head joyfully, causing a grin to blossom on the Viking’s face. Hiccup shifted his gaze back to his interlocutor.

“You’re not wrong about that, unfortunately,” he admitted. “There are a few new tasks waiting for you but you don’t need to bother yourself with them just yet – I have to see where we’re standing for myself and then I’ll think of what we should focus on first. What I need to know now is on what stage are the reparations we discussed last week and how much time do you think you’ll need to finish them. I could ask you to write down a report but then again, I know how much you hate that and I don’t really feel like going through another stack of papers, either. We’ll deal with it more quickly if you just tell me how it all looks like.”

“Wait, right now?”

“I told you, I don’t need a report. Just tell me what’s behind you, what you’re working on currently and what it is that you haven’t started yet – and most importantly, how much longer it will take you to be done with it. So, how are the stables?”

“Done three days ago.”

“Great. Gothi’s roof?”

“Will be done by the evening. We’re gathering the supplies, it all adds up so far, even though Sven complained about a few things… But it’s alright otherwise. As to the Arena, the kids made quite a mess there, but -”

“It should all be back to normal in a day or two.”

“Why am I telling you anything if you already know it anyway?”

“Just this one. Go on.”

“That would be all. We assigned the patrols, and the rest of our duties don’t really change.”

“And what about Mildew’s hut?”

Once again that afternoon Snotlout found himself in a highly unexpected position. Even though the question asked by Hiccup was fully justified and his interlocutor understood perfectly well that it should have in fact been expected, it did not mean he knew how to respond.

“By Thor, is it really so bad out there?” he was approached by the voice of his Chief, clearly amused by his companion’s confusion. Snotlout realised that on contrary to his fears Hiccup didn’t know what really was happening on the remote clearing and just like his previous queries, it was of purely informational nature.

He comprehended that it should remained like this, for everyone’s sake.

“Yeah, so… We’re working on it. It’s not tragic, but we will need a few more days to wrap it up entirely. A dozen, I’d say.”

“A dozen?” Hiccup asked, astonished. “You’re not supposed to build a house, just destroy the one that’s already there. It can’t be that time-consuming.”

“I know, I know.” Snotlout waved his hand impatiently. “The thing is, we had to set our priorities while we allotted the tasks and we all agreed that Mildew’s old dwelling wasn’t exactly the most urgent work to do.”

“Snot, we couldn’t get on with it for the past three months, we really must -”

“Hey, we _are_ working. It’s just, we’ve decided to approach the subject a little differently this time – so instead of spending a few days in a row there, we thought we could divide the work and do it in smaller bits. Whenever someone’s got time to spare, they fly to Mildew’s place. That’s all.”

Hiccup shook his head.

“That won’t work. You can’t function properly in such mess.”

“It has so far. Believe me, Hiccup, we wouldn’t have such good results if we were to work on it the normal way.”

His leader didn’t seem convinced, however, he resolved to trust his friend in the matter discussed. He wouldn’t have admitted it openly but he knew that the approach represented by Snotlout wasn’t entirely ungrounded – if there was a delay they could have afforded in all conscience, it was the demolition if the old man’s hut.

“Alright then. Please tell me though, who’s actually in charge of that little mission?”

Snotlout looked confused for a moment but then he answered in a confident voice, “I am.”

“Do you think you’ll be visiting it today?”

“I wasn’t going to. The Twins are there now, I think, and from what I saw they’re handling their share of duties pretty well; whoever will be there tomorrow, I’ll pay them my regards on the very morning. Nothing should go particularly wrong until then.”

“If you say so. Okay, I won’t be keeping you any longer. Go fly to the Academy or wherever it is you must go, and I’ll let you know when I have any new information for you. As for us, Bud… What do you say we inspect the Thorstons on their own pit of destruction?”

“No!”

As soon as Snotlout closed his mouth, he understood that he’d reacted a little too fiercely. Now it was not one, but two pairs of green eyes starring at him attentively, astonishment reflecting in both of them.

Odin Almighty, he needed to talk his way out of it somehow.

He pressed his fist against his lips and coughed, cherishing the illusion that it would make his behaviour seem at least a little more casual, and then he promptly passed on to explaining his sudden cry.

“You see, that’s a huge stir going there, which makes it all look exactly opposite to what you’d be expecting. If you go there now, you’ll only get annoyed for no reason and we both know that yelling at the Twins won’t change anything anyway. Maybe it will be better if I fly there today, and you can just focus on your usual business. I mean it! Hookfang! Here! Now!”

He was in his saddle after a moment, glancing at the other man with dismay. Hiccup followed his every movement, however, whatever he thought of his friend’s sudden change of heart, it did not reflect on his calm, concentrated face.

When Snotlout finally faded from his view, the Viking shifted his gaze on Toothless, who had been watching him expectantly for a while now.

“Yeah, Bud, I’ve noticed that, too. What do you think we pay them a little visit after all?”

* * *

“Alert! Alert! Everyone on alert! Whatever you’re doing, stop it at once, we need to clean up this place and come up with some good camouflage!”

Snotlout’s cries could have been heard long before his friends were able to see him. Annoyingly enough, all five of them – Eret, Fishlegs, the Twins and Whisper – were staying inside the renovated dwelling, busying themselves with works that still needed to be taken care of.

Perhaps they would have preferred to focus on the tasks which they could fulfil outside the building and which would allow them to enjoy the last beams of the autumn sun – why, if all of those chores had already been done.

“What is his problem now?” Fishlegs asked, turning to no one in particular, frowning with displeasure. Eret raised his gaze from above the furnace he’d been still working on and fixed it on the dark-haired girl that stood nearby. Whisper shook her head.

“Hey, you, where are you?” they were approached by another call, much closer this time. “Come here at once! We’re having a real crisis here!”

Not lingering any longer, they harmoniously abandoned their tasks and one by one, they turned towards the exit – however, before any of them managed to reach the threshold, Snotlout appeared on the other side of it, plainly convinced that he couldn’t afford another minute of waiting.

The same haste that had brought him there a moment earlier now made him omit all of the possible greetings or even limit his casual – and in a situation of this sort, fully justified – complaints to minimum, proceeding to the main cause of his unexpected arrival almost immediately.

“Alright, losers, I don’t know what it is you’re doing that you can’t stop it for a moment but I don’t even have the time to listen to your pathetic excuses right now. We’ve got a problem here, and frankly,compared to it, Drago Bludvist was a child’s play.”

“Which means?” Fishlegs looked at him solemnly, a shadow of unconcealed anxiety clouding his bright, round eyes.

“Which means that just a few moments ago I met His Highness, Hiccup Haddock, who for some reason is dying to see this wretched shed destroyed, as soon as possible. He cares about it so much, that when I told him that I would not be seeing to it today, he decided to take the trouble himself and check how the things are going.”

Involuntarily, Whisper cringed and, not fully aware of her own movements, she stepped back in a reflex action, which however, was completely disregarded by her agitated friends.

The girl bit her lip nervously.

“Okay, but if you’re here -” Tuffnut said at that very moment, pointing his finger at Snotlout. “Hiccup has no reason to fly here, does he? Or didn’t you tell him that you were going to come here yourself after all?”

“Of course I told him, you idiot,” his companion barked impatiently. “But it doesn’t mean he’ll change his mind about this visit. Look, I don’t understand why it’s so important to him either, but the last thing we need is a suspicious Hiccup walking around this place. And if he really arrives here today -”

“What did you just say?” Eret interrupted him with new amazement. “Why would he be suspicious?”

“Because it takes so much time, for a start. Besides -”

“You didn’t give him reasons to think there’s anything special going on here, did you?” The former trapper straightened up and looked questioningly at the suddenly distressed Viking. “You didn’t say anything that could make Hiccup want to fly here even more?”

“I… I don’t…”

“Good Thor, Snotlout, how exactly did you react when he announced that he’d be coming here?”

“I yelled that he shouldn’t do it! You happy now?” the Jorgenson cried out and crossed his arms on his chest, assuming the most daring pose possible. “It was dumb of me, I know that, but how on earth was I supposed to react? I’d never have thought that our much beloved, constantly busy Chief would find a moment to personally inspect some stupid demolition! Besides, you wouldn’t have done any better yourself, so instead of analysing my mistakes, could we just get to work at last? We need to hide as much as we can from Hiccup.”

“You can’t hide anything around here!” Fishlegs responded. “What should we do? Rip off the roof? Crack the door? Smash the furnace?”

“We might have to pluck the bridge, it strikes the eye awfully,” Snotlout drawled through his gritted teeth. “As for the door, you can easily remove it and put it aside, hide within a small distance and then do the same with the rest of the movables. I have no idea what to do about the furnace, you’ll have to figure it out for yourselves.”

“No way Snotlout, it’s too big to do anything about -”

“Then you’ll have to make sure that Hiccup never enters the house in the first place! Destroy the bridge, throw the rubbish on the grass before the hut. You can even set it on fire, as long as it stops him from peering inside. I told him that we had an awful mess going on here, so the more confusion you make, the better for all of us.”

“Does that mean we can _blow something up_?” Ruff suggested hopefully.

“Better leave that as a last resort, but yes, you can.” Snotlout nodded in confirmation, although it was obvious that his thoughts were already occupied with something else. “Fine, now as to our being here: Ruff and Tuff must stay for sure, because first, that’s exactly what I told Hiccup, and second, nobody can cause that much chaos, especially in such a short time; plus, it will look pretty natural in their case. Fishlegs, you’ll stay with them and make sure that they don’t destroy the hut itself in the process, since the point is to save as much of it as we possible can. Eret and I will go back to the village to keep up appearances, and try to divert His Highness’s attention from this place in the meantime. Does anyone object?”

The Riders shook their heads as a mark of the lack of counterarguments. Snotlout sighed with relief, and then turned to Whisper, who, still quiet, had been glaring at him from the very beginning.

“You must disappear, too,” he stated seriously. “Let’s hope we’ll manage to keep him away from this place, but we have no guarantee that we succeed, and then it may be really hard to explain anything to him. If he walks into you at this time… Don’t get me wrong but that won’t work out for anybody, you least of all.”

Snotlout’s words caused a pang in Whisper’s heart, once again reminding her of the kind of relationship between the young Chief and herself, which stood out so much in comparison of his already cold attitude towards the rest of the group. It was neither the time or place to pity herself, however, and with her teeth gritted, the girl nodded in affirmation.

Snotlout answered her with a similar gesture.

“Good, so we all know what we have to do. Come on Eret, the sooner he arrive at the village, the bigger the chance that we’ll catch Hiccup before he flies away somewhere else. Good luck, guys.”

He left the room at the same moment that he stopped talking, pulling the remarkably outraged Eret with him; Whisper followed suit, hardly noticing the Twins, who walked her up to the door, too worried to bid them a proper goodbye. Ruff threw a knowing glance at her brother and together, they ran out of the hut, and arm in arm, they began to demolish the catwalk they had worked on with such care.

Fishlegs raised his sight to the wooden ceiling and set off towards the exit as well.

And thus, the great mystification began – the same Vikings, who in the course of the last days had done their best to carry out all the repairs that the dwelling needed, trying to do it as well and as fast as they could, now were forced to make the hut look as if they’d been doing something exactly opposite. None of them as much as thought of wasting their time for further meditations – even Fishlegs, the most anxious of all, soon left the fair-haired siblings to themselves and, trusting that they wouldn’t cause any serious mishap (then again, could their antics really compound their current situation?), he set to work himself.

The first thing he did was remove the heavy door and lay it on the finally finished bed. Having thrown a few more trinkets on it, he covered it all with a wide sheet, half-eaten by the pests, which somehow preserved in Mildew’s hut all those months until now. Then he picked the more decayed boards from the stack and stood them around the furnace, hoping that with a good wrapping of this complex construction, it would gain a look of a most ordinary stack of scrap. Now he only had to put the real refuse out, pile it up on the clearing in a messy stack and who knows – maybe it would really be for the best to set it all on fire right after.

He took a few expendable logs in his arms and went outside, simultaneously cudgelling his brain on the problem of the roof, which certainly looked to well to fool anyone. By this time, the Twins had successfully ripped off a better half of the little bridge, and for once, their thoughts weren’t any different from the pondering of the rest of the gang.

“There’s no way Hiccup will buy this, not if he as much as glances at that roof,” Tuffnut remarked, as if he’d heard his friend’s thoughts, even though technically, he couldn’t even see him. “We’d have to make a _tremendous_ fire to divert his attention. Do you think we can actually do that?”

“I hope that we won’t have to,” his sister muttered, ripping away another panel and throwing it behind her.

“Are you kidding me? You love that stuff!”

“Don’t you really get anything?” Ruffnut straightened up rapidly, turning towards the astonished Viking; she was still kneeling by his side, but even in this position she looked dangerously enough to disquiet her overly careless brother. “Can’t you understand that if Hiccup finds out what we’ve been doing here, he’ll be more furious than ever before? This whole operation will go to to Helheim and that’s not even the biggest of our problems. You may not care a hoot for how much the guy will spew about all this, and by what names he will call us – I personally couldn’t care less about what he has to say about it – but did you think of what it would mean for Whisper? How he will blame _her_ for all this? Hiccup’s already doing his best to make her stay here as miserable as possible, if he finds out about this reconstruction, he’ll make it a living Hel. He may even order her to clear off from the island. What will you do then?”

Tuffnut could not answer a question of this sort.

The longer he’d listened to Ruffnut’s speech, the bigger was the horror reflecting in his eyes. Until this moment, the situation in which they’d find themselves seemed to him to be just another of many unpleasant businesses, with which they had always been able to deal with ease – all they’d needed was a bit of cleverness and determination, so the features that, as a group, they’d had in excess. Now it occurred to him how high was the stake they were playing for, and what would be the consequences of their possible defeat.

He didn’t want Whisper to pay the price for their failure.

“We can always tell him that all of it is our doing and Whisper’s never known anything about it,” he suggested quietly, returning to his work. “You know, that we wanted to surprise her or something. He will probably trash us, but why would we care?”

“That would be a great plan, if only Whisper let us put it into action. You know as well as I do that she’d rather take all the blame than let us defend her like this.”

The boy sighed, and smiled weakly.

“Don’t you sometimes think that she’s too good for us?”

“You seriously just got that now?”

“No, but I mean, I don’t think we deserve her, really.”

“Because we don’t. That’s why we’re rebuilding this hut, so we can repay her for everything she does for us. No matter what nonsense she repeats herself, we all know who’s in debt here.”

It was then when Tuffnut finally saw the light.

“You know what, you’re right,” he admitted with new firmness. “It sure will be better if Hiccup doesn’t come here. The question is: can we take that risk? I’ll tell you – we can’t. So, roll up your sleeves and quicken your moves, as this bridge is just a beginning of our work. It’s the high time we turn this place into a massive, unpredictable, blasting catastrophe, which only we can tame. And by the way, I think I finally know what to do about the roof.”

Ruffnut didn’t even try to fight back the sly grin that sprang on her lips in a most natural way. A familiar sparkle twinkled in her eyes when she felt her discouragement give way to the usual faith in her own ability to do the impossible.

“And I think I know where you’re heading with this,” she answered. “And I like it a lot. Though I suppose it’s a good thing that Whisper won’t see it, now that she’s gone to the -”

“Gone where?”

They both jerked up their heads in a sudden, almost unconditioned action, and nearly choked from the shock when right at their eye level and just a few feet away from them, they saw no less than the iron prosthetic of their Chief. In tandem, they shifted their gazes across his slender silhouette – and seeing his cloudy, grim countenance, they scrambled on their feet, both in line and jumped backwards, almost falling into the ditch over which they’d been working this entire time in the process.

Never in their lives had their been so close to a heart attack.

“Hiccup!” Tuff cried out, instinctively interweaving his hands behind his back, as if he was trying to hide an object much more physical than the protected information. “What are _you_ doing here? Snotlout mentioned something about you coming but we didn’t think that -”

“Where is she, Tuff?” Hiccup cut him off mercilessly, crossing his arms on his chest and boring into him. “Where is Whisper and why is it so important that she wasn’t here now?”

“Well, I’m not sure, but it seems to me like it’s none of your business,” Ruffnut retorted hot-heatedly, while her agitated brother unsuccessfully tried to muster a decently coherent utterance, and who was now starring at herwith terror, amazed by the boldness which he himself probably could not muster.

Maybe if the circumstances had been different, Ruffnut also would have judged her reaction as a rather unfortunate move, and maybe she even would’ve regretted not biting her tongue in time. Yet, the way in which their leader talked about her dear friend, as if from the very beginning he’d been trying to not only offend her, but accuse her as well made all of the bars that had been holding her so far disappear.

She was simply sick of him.

Hiccup, however, was not a type to give the fight easily.

“I’m afraid it is my business, actually,” he said with emphasis, clearly discontented with the answer he’d received. “For all these weeks there had hardly been a day when I didn’t meet her, while during the last three days I haven’t even spotted her once. Considering a few other factors, I’m really starting to worry.”

Ruffnut snorted disdainfully.

“About Whisper? Sorry, Chief, no one’s gonna buy that.”

“Oh, no. I’m worried about Berk’s well-being and about you, who have apparently forgotten to whom you own your allegiance first. It’s Berk that is your priority, or at least that’s what it should be – Berk and nothing else.”

“What?!” the girl cried with disbelief. “We haven’t had a moment’s break for weeks, flying there and back again, trying to make it all work! We managed to keep up with the plan for the first time in _months_ – and you’re telling us that we forgot about Berk?!”

“Then what is _this?_ ” Notwithstanding his previous endeavours, aggravation was now rising in his voice. “Where is that chaos Snotlout was threatening me with? What about the mess you can’t control? And why on the deuce is that hut still standing?!”

And not waiting for an answer, he walked passed his irate companions, crossing the long-incomplete bridge construction without a trace of hesitation, and turned his steps towards the small pile formed from the rubbish that Fishlegs had thrown on the ground. He smiled piteously.

“Now that’s pathetic.”

“Hiccup, wait,” Tuffnut said suddenly, running up to him. “You’re really thinking about it all wrong. You just chose an awful day for a visit, come here tomorrow and it will all be okay.”

“Tuff, I came here expecting smoke, screams and explosions, broken bones and an earthquake, and instead, I get a half ripped catwalk and a stack of rubbish. If someone asked be, I’d say I smell a really thick scam.”

“Hey!” The blonde Viking stopped in his tracks, hurt. “That’s a serious accusation!”

“It’s supposed to be one!” Hiccup retorted. “I well know what the end of the world looks like in your execution. What am I supposed to think when I’m threatened with a vision of Ragnarok, while all I find is nothing Fishlegs couldn’t do? How am I to take your excuses if everything around me is a prove of your dishonesty?”

None of the Twins was capable of refuting an accusation of this sort. Hiccup turned to look more carefully at the hut itself – and at once, he noticed Fishlegs, standing in its very treshold.

How many other surprises did still await him in that cursed place?

“Well, well, so it’s more than just our infamous trio that decided to mutiny against my villainous reign,” he droned. “You know, Fishlegs, I really was hoping that I wouldn’t meet you here but apparently, I was fooled by my own naivety once more.”

“Listen, Hiccup, we can explain this,” the fair-haired Viking stuttered, simultaneously tightening his grip on the wooden scraps he was holding in his arms.

Hiccup raised his eyebrows and gifted his interlocutor with a mercy-devoid glare.

“I bet you can. You also must have had a reason not to have done that earlier, playing conspiracy and unnecessary secrets instead. And of course, Whisper has nothing to do with it, the Twins were just rejoicing in her absence without any specific cause. Yes, everything is good and well, and there’s absolutely no reason why I should bother myself with anything connected to -”

He stopped mid-sentence, dumbstruck. Ruffnut used the opportunity at once and ran to him, shouting more annoyed arguments at him; but Hiccup wasn’t listening. He had no intention of taking note of Tuffnut either, when the latter finally joined his sister in this fierce attack.

During the long course of his reproachful speech, Hiccup had not taken his eyes off Fishlegs for a second, while the latter became more concerned – _terrified almost_ – than ever. And even though he had looked away almost immediately, the young Chief had not ceased to bore into his face, as if against all reason he’d hoped that his friend would somehow manage to allay his fears and present a reason explaining why his trust had been violated to such a degree.

Then however, his gaze slithered from the chosen spot and rested on the dwelling behind it.

“You’ve been rebuilding it,” he whispered, surprised, feeling a sudden pang in his chest when his friends’ disobedience gained a meaning of treason in his eyes. “I told you that the house should be demolished, and you decided to renovate it? And you still got the nerve to tell me that you can explain it?”

Ruffnut opened her mouth, ready to answer, yet before she’d had a chance to say anything, her brother’s palm was on her lips, successfully preventing her from doing so.

They shouldn’t rile him more.

“It’s for her, isn’t it?” It was more of a statement than a question. “You’re repairing this hut, so Whisper could move in here, and because you know about my general opinion of her staying here, you decided it would be better not to tell me anything. Because, of course, I am that ruthless monster who does nothing but thinks of new ways to make life miserable for some poor, innocent girl. And you know what? If this is you opinion of me, then by all means, let it be so. Maybe it’s time I finally rise to the epithets you’ve been so generously calling me.”

He whistled at Toothless, who’d been restlessly hanging about the place, giving his interlocutors to understand that he thought the matter resolved.

However, when the dragon appeared by his side, he did not hop onto the saddle and fly off, but turned back to them and in an icy-cold voice, he stated: “Whisper is not at all as innocent as you think. She may be the prettiest, most obliging girl on this island, but if she puts herself above Berk’s well-being, if she’s the cause for which you abandon your duties, if for her benefit you’re ready to lie to my face, then there is no place for her here. And no matter what you now think of me, her or anyone else – Whisper is not, nor will ever be, one of us.”

The three Vikings stared at him in terror, unable to stutter a word of protest – but Hiccup was no longer looking at them. Sitting on Toothless’s back and ignoring his astonished gaze, he pressed the pedal, preparing the artificial tail fin for the upcoming flight.

“When I arrive here next time, I don’t want to see anything that would as much as remind me of this hut. _Nothing_. You’ve got three days.”

And having said that, he took off into the air.

His friends followed him with their sight, still unable to get over their Chief’s fiery, hateful speech. None of them realised that only a few tens feet away a dark-haired girl was leaning on the dirty wall of the dwelling, pressing her hands to her mouth and choking on her muffled sobs, unsuccessfully trying to govern the emotions that were raging inside her right now.

She’d stopped fighting her tears long time ago.

* * *

Hiccup sighed, resigned, hearing the wrathful hammering on the door of his own house. Even at such a late hour, it was not particularly surprising to him – one might say he was somehow expecting this visit.

Which of course didn’t make him any more willing to receive it.

He pushed himself from the table, unhurriedly walked up the entrance and opened the door with no further pondering on the subject. As he had assumed, his eyes were met with a bulky silhouette of a person, literally shaking from infinite agitation and rage. Before Hiccup had a chance to say anything, the man raced past him, appearing in the hearth-lit room a moment later. The Chief turned back instinctively but again – as soon as he’d opened his mouth, his ears were approached by the more than annoyed words of his guest.

“Hiccup, you’re the biggest idiot this island has ever seen. Not one of us? What was that supposed to be? I have no idea what it is she’s done to you, but you really crossed the line today!

“I’m glad to see you, too,” the host muttered in response as he closed the door; he inwardly thanked the gods that this once, his mother had decided to spend the night away from home. “But you really don’t have to shout at me like that.”

“Yes, I do! There’s no place for her here?! What the Hel was that?”

“You weren’t there, Snotlout.”

“So what? Fishface told me enough to make want to throw you from the nearest cliff!”

“Oh, really? And since when do you care for anything Fishlegs has to say?”

“Well, if anything, he told me less than he should have, and in a watered-down version. Because as usual, he was trying to excuse you. But I know you, jerk, and I know how it must’ve looked like! Besides, after today’s show even Fishlegs will run out of will to defend you. What if Whisper heard you?”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, you better start to, because -”

“I said: _I don’t care_ , Snotlout!” A note of irritation was starting to ring in Hiccup’s voice, finally replacing the cool composure that was so hard to bear. “She doesn’t belong to the Vikings and nothing will change that. She turned your heads from the very beginning, to the point where I can no longer trust you with the idlest of matters. Forgive me, but I’m not going to tolerate that.”

“That has nothing to do with the case. You’re prejudiced against her and you blame every trifle on her.”

“You’re wrong.”

“If you could, you’d banish her from Berk on the nearest occasion. Come on, say you wouldn’t do that!”

“I’m not going to!” Hiccup cried out, feeling his self-control crumble. “We don’t need her here! There’s no such thing she could help us with, and ever since she came, she’s only been causing additional row. Say what you will, but she is no good to us.”

“She is the best thing that has happened to us since Astrid passed away!”

Snotlout understood there weren’t words that would enrage his shattered, devastated leader more – and it was not a coincidence that he voiced them at this specific time. In his eyes, there was nothing but truth in them, the truth in which he himself so strongly believed and which Hiccup had demanded so wilfully earlier that day. The time had come for someone to tell him how things really were.

Even if it would hurt him to hear it.

The Chief gave him a glare full of loath, unable to answer immediately. He was breathing heavily and deeply, clearly restraining from the outburst towards which all of his injured self was pushing him. Instead of succumbing to it, however, he just clenched his teeth ever more and, curling his hands into fists, he drawled:

“Get out.”

Snotlout ignored his command, determined not to yield, and only kept gazing into his interlocutor’s eyes.

“You know, Hiccup, I used to be proud to call you my friend. Now I’m ashamed to call you my Chief.”

When he realised he wouldn’t live to get an answer to the thought he’d voiced, the young Jorgenson only waved his hand and, having spun on his heel, he approached the threshold that he’d crossed just mere minutes earlier.

He cracked the door open and glancing at his companion almost carelessly, he threw in a lieu of a goodbye, “I don’t know what’s happening to you. I don’t know what you’ve turned yourself into, or what you’re planning to become next, but whatever, _whoever_ you are right now, you’re surely not the guy Astrid had fallen in love with. It’s high time you stopped treating her like an excuse for your own stupidity.”

And then he left, closing the door behind him, thus avoiding being hit with an ink pot that crashed against it a split second later.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 16  
Truly and entirely, utterly alone**

_Beneath the stains of time_   
_The feelings disappear_   
_You are someone else_   
_I am still right here_

* * *

Many minutes had passed since Snotlout’s unexpected visit, and he still was too shaken to do anything but make attempts to calm down his frayed, tangled, quivering nerves.

Attempts that could end in nothing but another failure.

Hiccup leaned over the table by which he had stood for way too many moments already, cherishing an illusion that he would finally manage to pull himself together and get back to work, so rudely interrupted by his friend’s appearance. His already slouched silhouette hooked even more, his shoulders trembling under the additional weight, while he kept remembering the events to which he owed his current state of mind.

Good gods, he hated them. He hated them all.

He hated Fishlegs, who instead of standing loyally by his side, had so easily given in to his companions’ incitement. Tuffnut, who against all proofs of their crime, still had had the nerve to tell him that their behaviour could be excused and Ruffnut, who hadn’t even tried to pretend that she’d regretted anything. Snotlout, defiantly daring to invoke Astrid, directly suggesting that it would not be _him_ , Hiccup, whose case the fair-haired girl would have supported.

He hated Eret, whom, admittedly, he had not yet had a chance to question, but whom he’d already managed to involuntarily, yet severely judge.

He hated them all for being right.

But most of all, he hated himself.

“What am I?” he whispered in a pained voice, stubbornly glaring at the parchments laid on the table, not realising he was repeating the very question Snotlout had asked him. “What, by the devil, am I?!”

He felt Toothless nudge him on the elbow for the umpteenth time that evening, as he tried to drag him from those miserable thoughts; all in vain. Even though the young Chief was aware his friend’s endeavours and although deep inside, he felt some sort of gratitude for it, it still was too little to make him show it in any particular way.

With every passing minute, his own meditation brought more suffering to him – and yet, he could not stop that vicious circle of woe.

“Why is it only so difficult for me?” he asked after a moment, still unable to look Toothless in the eye. “Why am I the only one who can’t handle it? Why can everybody else go on, laughing and chafing, functioning as they had before? And only I… only I…”

_Only I can’t get over it._

Hiccup closed his eyes, as if with that simple gesture he’d wanted to bar himself from that cold, unfriendly world, whose hostility seemed to increase with every passing week, as if that gesture had had a power to stop the wave of helplessness, overcoming his young being every day and every night, over and over again. He knew he was fooling himself. Such malaise could only be battled openly, face to face, and only in a fair, honest fight – why, if he didn’t even have enough strength to fully comprehend his enemy’s might?

He was like an old man, tired with all too many years of his life who, while knowing that the memories will not bring him peace, stubbornly summons them anyway, in the belief that those wretched snips still carry more happiness than the vision of the future looming before him.

_Future_.

A word so full of hope, of expectation, so exciting in its uncertainty. For a Viking so young and curious of the world around him, so full of zest while barely stepping into the adulthood, could there be something greater or more appealing in its uncanniness?

No, certainly not.

And maybe that was why his friends could still appreciate all those details that their everyday lives offered them. Maybe it was thanks to it that, unlike him, they still knew how to simply _be_ together, enjoying each others’ company, strengthening the old relations and building up the new ones.

Unfortunately for Hiccup, the process of entering life had ended for him a long time ago – for the past sixteen months he’d done nothing but steadily and persistently said his goodbyes to it.

The memory of his friends caused a pang in his already too wounded heart, instantly bringing up the scene that had played between them that afternoon. Did he even had the right to call them by that name anymore? Snotlout had been right to say that after that kind of outburst on his part even the kindest soul would have turned their back to him, and what could he expect from the people whom he’d already managed to disappoint so much? And hadn’t he himself admitted to the most hostile feelings held towards them just a moment ago?

He, he himself had killed their friendship, long before anyone had as much as thought that it could ever come to an end.

He was alone; truly and entirely, utterly _alone_.

Just him, his guilt, and the constantly growing shame, shame, _shame._

“ _I am ashamed to call you my Chief.”_

He shut his eyes, fully understanding that not only had Snotlout’s words been true, but that they had also been justified. Yes, he _had_ changed – and he knew that regardless of how imperfect he’d once been, there was not a single person that rejoiced in the transformation that had happened in him during those last months.

And Hiccup understood them perfectly – it would have been easier for all of them if he could just snap out of his moroseness, which had been poisoning his entire being so successfully, and regain his long lost patience and oh so needed charity. By contrast to the other Vikings however, he realised that wishes of this kind would never be anything more than wishes – because he also realised that even if he’d given all of his effort to that particular task, he never would have been able to bring back that ‘careless, dorky Hiccup’ whose return everyone around seemed to need so much.

“I can’t do this alone,” he drawled through his gritted teeth, feeling the fresh, hot, bitter tears well up under his lids.

He didn’t want them, gods, he didn’t want them at all. Not only that, but he also didn’t understand them – after such a long time, shouldn’t he have got used to that never-ending pain? Hadn’t he shed enough tears that his body would learn that there was no point in producing them? So many times he’d been told that he should not fight his urge to weep, hearing that it was that that brought real consolation – but how was he to accept that truth, if his own tears gave nothing except for another dose of pain, greater and greater every time it came? The pain he could never truly bear? And why _time_ , which to everyone else seemed to be the best of medics, to him appeared as a ruthless enemy, cruel beyond belief?

He clenched his fists and hissed, feeling a sharp, burning strain radiating over his right hand. In all of his grief, he’d managed to forget about the injury hidden inside it, a result of an accident from a few hours prior – the injury that he’d disregarded from the start, foregoing his right to attend it properly. Now he felt his blood weep from the newly opened wound once more, slowly soaking through the negligently bound, dirty bandages – still, he did not as much as think of paying any attention to the gash. He clenched his temporarily loosened fists harder still, swallowing the scream that sprung on his lips.

This gesture could result in nothing else but another strike of pain, this time reaching all the way over the man’s shoulders; and yet, that physical struggle gave him some inexplicable, nearly masochistic sense of joy, as if it had the power to release him from the suffering on which he would have focused in any other case. So great was the misery he went through every wretched day – why would he bother with that idle, bodily discomfort?

Compared to what he felt in his heart, this new pain was nothing short of deliverance.

He sensed his legs shake, his knees bend under his weight, and his entire posture lean forward more and more. He couldn’t tell whether the dizziness he felt was a result of his abrupt action from the moment earlier, or maybe it stemmed from the thoughts that had accompanied it. It might have been an effect of the lifestyle he had lead for so long, or maybe it was all of these at once.

He was too tired to care – too torn to pay any attention to it.

He wanted to yell, to kick, he wanted to tear away the despair that had taken root in him like a weed, spreading not only over his heart, but his soul and head as well. So many times had he been told that he should not bar himself from the world with the wall of his own sorrow, no matter how terrible it would be – while he himself desired nothing but to break out from the prison to which he had herd himself, to which he herd himself again and again on every coming day.

The first of the tears he’d fought so adamantly slipped from his eye and flowed down, marking his cheek with a long, warm trace, smudging the dust that still sat on it after so many hours of work. Hiccup wiped it away furiously. Crying wouldn’t help. Nothing ever would.

He sighed angrily. He had been through all that already after all, back in the spring, when his entire world had seemed to have fallen into pieces. He had also thought that it was the end back then, that he would never find the strength to rise after the blow that Stoick’s death undoubtedly was. He’d been just as sure he wouldn’t handle the guilt that rested on his shoulders, nor the loneliness that had already become his share, marking his soul like some never-healing scars. He remembered how oppressed he had felt by the tiny, everyday duties to which he hardly paid any mind now; how every evening he had gone to bed with the same confidence that he’d been the Chief that Berk had neither deserved nor needed. He could not forget the nightmares that had reminded him of his crime every night – nightmares that had only stopped because for a long time now his body had been to exhausted to gift him with any sort of visions.

He had been helpless and unsure, determined not to believe that he could carry out the task which fate and history had forced upon him so many years too soon.

And yet, he had never felt so distraught, so endlessly void of hope. He had never felt so lonely.

And he never had been. Even in this most difficult of times, when both his past and his guilt had seemed to hunt him as if he’d been an animal, frantic with fear, and to remind him of itself everyday – even then, he could always count on the strong, steady anchor, one he had never come close to doubting.

In a despair of this kind only Astrid could help.

_Astrid._

“Gods, no,” he whispered with a tired, trembling voice. “No. I beg you, _no_.”

He drew a sharp breath, as if he had believed that this new inflow of air would allow him to fight the emotions that rippled through him and then almost choked on his own saliva. He was feeling more and more dizzy every second; he moved his hand towards the edge of the table, tightening his fingers on it in the vain hope that it would help him remain standing for at least a short moment more.

But even that was too much to hope for now.

It felt as if all the barriers, all the walls with which he had so stubbornly guarded himself from the outside world crumbled down in that single second. He felt the memories rush into his no longer guarded mind, not encountering the usual obstacles that had prevented them so far and immediately overwhelming him with the images, which in real life, he was never to see again. Reminding of the touch he was not to feel. The laughter he was not to hear.

The figure he could no longer lose himself in.

Violent sobbing shook his weak silhouette when, exhausted and more than aware of his defeat, he finally acknowledged his subconsciousness’s superiority, giving himself up to its power and humbly accepting the consequences of his failure. But Hiccup had nothing left to fight with, and only with the last scraps of will did he try to catch the pathetic shreds, shown so cruelly by his everlasting foe.

Yes, Astrid, _only_ Astrid had had enough strength to defy a misery of this sort, standing by his side when everyone else had lost hope, when he himself denied himself the right to the compassion of men, convinced of his fault and the utter impossibility of ever redeeming it.

And there she was. She stroked his hair, kissed his temples, held him close in that unforgettable, loving embrace, ensuring over and over again that he knew that he did not have to fear her judgement.

There were days when all he needed to chase his fears away was a squeeze of her hand, a smile sent over during a lengthy council meeting, a look exchanged at a run. There were also days which he wouldn’t have survive, had he not been able to bury his head in her shoulder, holding her as close as if the existence of his, hers and their entire world had depended on it. So many times she had seen him broken, humiliated, weaker than any time before – and she had never given him a reason to think that she’d felt an ounce of discomfort because of it. He’d wished so desperately that in her eyes he could remain the same strong, indomitable man that had somehow managed to gain her affection – and Astrid consonantly explained how little the two had with one another, effectively talking him out of his resolve to keep his emotions known to no one but himself.

Never, _never_ had she rejected him.

Shivering more and more fiercely, Hiccup sunk on his knees, pressing his trembling chin to his chest in a gesture of repentance and subservience, taking the air in by sharp, uneven breaths. His hand, now bleeding more and more profusely, he pressed against his chest, thinking nothing of the scarlet stains that tainted his tunic, while the fingers of his left clenched even harder on the verge of his no longer useful desk.

He was devastated and drained, and had no idea what else he could do. Once again he felt like an animal, only this time even the freedom of chase seemed to have been taken away from him. Now he was an animal caught, encircled and locked in a tight, cold cage, so tired that unable to put up the shortest of fights. With all of his being he felt the injustice of fate, so unflaggingly taking everything he loved most away from him – but he simply had no strength to rebel against anything anymore.

He wanted to die, to fall, to disappear off the face of this world and vanish into oblivion, knowing that nothing else could ever put an end to his suffering. As long as he lived, he _remembered_ – and nothing, no one could change this current state of affairs. He was locked up in the prison of his own life; and he knew there wasn’t a power but death that could bring him out of it.

Maybe that was why Whisper had repelled him so much from the start. Because she was the _new_ , the _fresh_ , she was the change of which he had no right to dream of. She was that gentle breath of wind of which he could hear and in whose wonderful qualities he could wholeheartedly believe, which however, he could never experience himself.

It might have been exactly like this – and perhaps, if Hiccup had not been so drunk with the pain that once more pierced through his entire being, he would have embraced and understood the explanation, which his subconsciousness hinted to him so discreetly.

But Whisper wasn’t there anymore.

No one was.

Even Toothless, brushing his nostrils against his best friend’s cheek with such care remained unnoticed, as if the physical world and the Chief’s internal struggles constituted two different realities, between which no worldly connection could be formed.

No one. Only him and the magnitude of his ache.

He wanted to say something, refute something, but the words stuck in his throat, withheld by a sudden, unexpected fit of coughing, one Hiccup could by no means explain, nor did he try to. The attack had brought up new tears, in his mind’s eyes he saw new memories and for the first time in his life Hiccup Haddock thought that then and there, the gods had decided to answer his prayers, taking him from this miserable mortal coil long before the end of the night. He coughed and wept, wept and coughed, while the physical pain in his chest slowly matched the ache which he felt with all his young, wounded soul. The longer he thought of the perspective that suddenly appeared to loom before him, the greater was his hope for fulfilling his wish, the bigger his readiness to accept such fate.

Yet, his attack ended as rapidly as it had begun, giving him to understand that he was to battle life for some more, unspecified time. Hiccup sighed heavily, trying to push away the disappointment over the hope that had managed to take root in his heart over those last few seconds, and brought himself up to a sitting position again. At last, he felt Toothless’ breath on his skin and raised his gaze, staring into the big, green eyes so full of concern; and even that was too much to bear, so he only shook his head and pulling his legs to his chest, he rested his forehead on his knees, covering his head with his hands in a desperate gesture.

The loyal dragon lay down behind his back, eager to support his Rider even in this most ordinary way, warming him up with his heat and shielding with the massive of his wide, black wings – even if neither of these endeavours was to be noted by the man himself.

The young Chief remained silent, listening to the sounds of the storm that still raged in his already battered heart. He couldn’t, or maybe he just didn’t want to, speak. Nothing he could say would ever give voice to his state and the thousands of feelings that were racing through him.

Nothing but one simple thought.

“I miss you, Astrid. Gods, I miss you so much.”


End file.
